


Tales of 5-Piece IKEA

by KristleTribble



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Action/Adventure, Albinism, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alien Culture, Aliens, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - Slavery, Blood and Torture, Character Study, Drugs, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Enemies, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gore, Heavy Angst, Human Experimentation, Illnesses, Injury, Mental Health Issues, Multi, Near Death Experiences, Original Universe, Outer Space, Physical Abuse, Politics, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Poverty, Psychological Trauma, Racism, Social Anxiety, Social Justice, Some Humor, Space Pirates, Tags May Change, Team as Family, Telekinesis, Telepathic Bonds, Xenophobia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2019-04-27
Packaged: 2019-06-18 10:21:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 19
Words: 54,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KristleTribble/pseuds/KristleTribble
Summary: In an insignificant mining complex on an alien world, five individuals torn by harsh societal prejudices are thrown together in a quasi-random event. With a history of abuse and loneliness behind each of their personalities, they will learn to fend for each other among the cold and unforgiving stars. A killer, an amateur, a slave, a drunk, a freak -- collectively, they are what some now fear as... "5-Piece IKEA". (See tags for potential trigger warnings.)/Characters are only listed in the tags if they are at least mentioned in passing./I welcome all comments, questions, interactions, etc., I don't judge for that sort of thing!! :)/A big thanks to Elsa, who helped me by correcting the wonky Finnish that Google Translate gave me!!! :)/This AU now has an ask blog available on Tumblr: @ nordic-space-ikea-au !! Please ask away, or check it out for more drawings of this AU!!/Note (May 16th): Due to personal reasons, I'm putting this work on hiatus. I would rather not present uninspired and low-quality writing. Thank you for your understanding, dear readers, and I apologize for the lack of content.---6(*' v '*)9





	1. Rise of a Killer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 10-21-18 Edit:  
> Changed two wordings of 'Paatusi' to 'Jumala'. I was proofreading this again and found another Finnish detail I had overlooked previously. I was intending the meaning to be talking about God, but once again, Google Translate has amazed me with accurate vocabulary... (which is sarcasm, by the way.)

They were everywhere. It was inevitable for him, he knew that much. He had to free himself from the confines of the station. There was so much to explore out there. It would become his adventure - the ultimate conclusion of the alliance.

 

* * *

  
I had found myself on the right plaza. My laser rifle was held snug against my back, safely within the holster. Bullet trains whizzed behind me on sparking rails. I breathed in the lavender scent perfuming the air, intensified by the thick night. Exotic red and yellow lanterns illuminated the platform, inviting travelers to the festival under way. All around me, individuals came and went on their various journeys from the station. Some were humans. Some were alien. Some glanced at me as if I were suspicious, but I was a figure that simply stood against the flow of the crowd, and nothing more.

  
My ears singled out the sounds of my footsteps against the marble pavement, echoing against the murmur of the crowd. I passed by steaming booths of prepared delicacies, a rich man's feast for peasant pedestrians. A quick glance told me all I needed to know: this was obviously the accommodation of some rich corporation. The fancy animation light-boards gave away all the credit pumped into the festival grounds...

  
The higher ups, looking to pacify the poor and slum-ridden collar workers.

  
Alleyways slipped out here and there in the corners of the food stands. Their shadows beckoned to me in the darkness. After becoming one with them, I dashed down a dark pathway. Above me loomed my target, a skyscraper housing a select and certain recipient of my soon-to-be existent ire.

 

* * *

  
After an hour's scaling up the side of the scraper (using traditional yet readily effective trade secrets), I used an air ventilation system to drop into a vacant room. A stealthy look around the corner of the door-frame revealed the clear location of my target, in the adjacent room - a kitchen, guessing from the multitude of delights he was gorging on.

  
As the light danced around the white steel walls, I could see the sweat of his skin drip down his visage; he was stuffing his pighole with food from my homeworld - food he stole from my people. The smell of fish and laser disc combined instantly in the vapors of the air; a second later, the pig's head was human brains in the crevices of the blanched backdrop. I locked my rifle into its trusty holster, backed up against a window, and dived for the table after planting a bomb on the glass.

  
My mouth released a (minute) snicker as clueless bodyguards charged into the murder scene. I coiled into a defensive position as a beep resonated, followed closely by exploding glass. I made the open wall space my escape route, and proceeded to leap from the artificial precipice.

  
Yells behind me were drowned in the wind. Adrenaline pumped through my veins, my body under the forces of a hardcore skydive. A corrupted city lay sprawled beneath, lit up with sarcastic jollity and merriment. The Festival of the Midnight Moons was under way, with busy traffic carrying on under me.

 

* * *

  
Any of the residents can be the subjects of my picking and choice. As the notorious Winter Sniper, a falcon in the shadows, any who get on my odd side will feel the worst for it: definitive death.

  
A mercenary's life is a rigorous one, days and nights, in and out. Hunting season comes and goes with the interplanetary news. A good portion of the time my leads are on corporate fat freaks. And all the more worthy; the pay is phenomenal and the purpose is clear.

 

* * *

  
In midfall, I sighted a hovercar beneath me; spreading my arms out, I aligned onto the top chassis, catching the rim as it accelerated from a parking position. Heights never bother me nowadays, but the endless drop into the Underworld beneath me kept my unawareness in check. It was a caution I was forced to reckon with, owing to my hazardous line of labor.

  
Nevertheless, the car was proving especially difficult to maintain a grasp on. I pulled my free arm forward with a generous bit of effort and stayed flush to the roof of my ride. Damn cobium frames - they're the slickest material to hold onto at high speeds, and murder for some fool without gloves.

  
Thank Jumala I'm prepared for my missions.

  
The wafting smoke of a bar grill alerted my senses to my destination. I sighted the den at my 2 o' clock, 40 meters down. With a difficult landing, my timed release from the slick cobium hover-car earned me the purchase of a convenient garbage heap on the bar's exterior.

  
My frame kept flush to the shadows I favored, slipping out from the pile. The smell of obscene waste wavered on my clothes. I reminded myself that the garbage pile was my savior to justify the sacrifice of decency (nonetheless, I brushed off maggots and bags with disgust and unsatisfied vigor).

  
The entrance to the bar was open, full of festivity and jollity. My client was seating himself under a golden haze of Honeyfun smoke, his expression more stoned than anything. Maybe I could take advantage of this moronic Chalcan's addiction after all.

  
His gills flared violently as a shadow loomed over him and he turned his yellow eyes up to my personage (with an extremely agitated growl to boot). "I toold yoo. Wee had a specific deel. Yoo shoot Milkin. I get the drugs. Wee split eevenly."

  
His elongated accent began to irritate me, but his inability to recognize me was the more aggravating factor in this whole meeting. I lifted up my mask so he could see my face (and therefore my agitated countenance as well) clearly. After a brief moment, the light of recognition crossed the narcotic isinglass of his eyes, and the Chalcan hoarsely croaked out a barely audible phrase.

  
"...ooh...it's yoo, eh...?" He patted the seat next to him with a pincer, giving as much of a consoling smile as he could muster with his fishlips.

  
I sat across from his piscian frame in disgust. Ignoring his obvious rejection of amity, I held my gloved hand out to indicate my request for pay. The fishy prick slapped my hand down, and I prepared myself for an unfounded and drug-fueled tangent.

  
Instead, he croaked again, and shadily avoided my eye contact. "I...doon't have it."

  
Anger vibrated into my veins. I leaned forward to get in his face. My voice came out in a low drawl at first, then crescendoed into a muffled screech. "What do you mean, 'I don't have it'!?" I detached my rifle and shoved it into his frightened mug with an almost desperate force. My client flinched; his fins worked and twitched nervously with innate fear.

  
That was even more disgusting than his smile. It was good to know I could still intimidate though. I strategized the path of an interrogation in my head, and voiced it into my client's face with dignity and swelling wrath. "Explain. Explain, or turn into a pile of fish sticks I could see in my next meal plan."

  
He stuttered into a rather ragged and terrorized expression, finally locking with my eyes. "It waas 21:00. I was waiting in line aat the baank. Then the whoole systeem just shutdoown. Your theeory about the life-finance connection didn't paan out. Are yoo shure hee is dead?"

  
"I made a piece of Jackson Pollock out of him. His brains made a vivacious color scheme against a stark white background." I briefly mused on the instance not too long ago, when I had a time of absolutely satisfactory vengeance. A smile spread on my face in light of even more satisfaction.

  
The Chalcan regained his composure from some unknown source. "Yeesh...yoo've got keenks. Look, kid." He batted my rifle away from his face with a barely shaking pincer. I digressed my anger and returned the weapon to its holster. "I knoow soomeone hoo can heelp us. Just bee patieent."

  
I sighed and crashed back into the booth seat. The leather caught my weight with a comfortable cushioned effect. My client stood up and stumbled to the bartender (probably looking to drink away his stress). My eyes closed in temporary rest; I meditated upon my accomplishment.

 

* * *

  
The man I took out earlier was a supercorporation executive, Dean Falsov. He was renowned for "promoting welfare systems" (quoted from his facetious media representative). Saying that would be just like any of his self-sagacious and egoistic lies. That asshole was responsible for the enslavement of millions of Old Earth residents. I could do nothing but hide in sheer fear while my only family, my cousin and the love of my life, were shackled away by his agents.

  
My palms instinctively reached up to my necklace, a silver cross on a simple metal chain. It was an aged but persistent symbol of unity, at least in elder days. Presently, it reminded me of what I was looking for - simple reunion with my family.

  
The cross gleamed in the fluorescent light of the bar, through the puffs of Honeyfun smoke from my client earlier. My musings wandered to the empty Honeyfun bong hanging on the wall across from me.

  
Honeyfun was just one more element of Falsov's welfare promises. Free for everyone, he exclaimed; yet it was only marketed after the pig made certain it was undeniably addictive, and then he made sure to kick up the pricing.

  
The real irony is the type of work employed into such manufacture. Honeyfun is refined from chemicals deep within various planet lithospheres. That is to say, Falsov used his millions of Old Earth slaves to grind those precious minerals. And with the Honeyfun market booming, there will be no stop to the work done by the poor souls, deep underground and trapped in squalor and shame...

 

* * *

 

A sudden noise stirred above me and I instinctively shoved my rifle in that general direction. My gaze traveled up the barrel.

  
A waitress was on the other end, with a mixed look of confusion and stalwart confidence. She glanced down at the rifle, which stuck into her stomach, then narrowed her eyes at me. "I believe your Chalcan friend ordered this for you, sir." Her hand shakily held out a tray with a bottle of Old Earth vodka.

  
I snatched up the vodka with my other hand, setting it down upon the table's top. I turned to holster my rifle, watching the waitress sway on her heels away from me in my peripheral vision. When I returned to my alcohol, I was faced with a nasty proposition.

  
My favorite drink, and a gift no less, was now nonexistent. My first reaction was to look up at the waitress, and then I turned to my blind spot as the gears began to click in my head.

  
An unseen blunt force came from my left, knocking me forward onto the corner of the tabletop. I prayed to Jumala that it wasn't going to be the cronies of Dean Falsov, but I never received the opportunity to find out my suspicions. The shadows leaped and claimed me into painful slumber.

  
XXX


	2. Rise of an Amateur

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter uses Finnish translated with Google Translate. Please comment or message me if it is not accurate, and I will correct the text ASAP. Intended translation is included after this chapter.

They were everywhere. It was inevitable for him, he knew that much. He had to free himself from the confines of the station. There was so much to explore out there. It would become his adventure - the ultimate conclusion of the alliance.

 

* * *

 

"Move it rooks! Move!" The commander hissed behind me. I shuffled out of the passenger truck with my fellow operatives, clad in civilian dress. We filed into a group and waited for our platoon leader to lock the truck. I shifted nervously in my brown coat, a tad too insulating for this metropolis' climate.

  
The area of our operation was a shifty bar located off of one of the major traffic ways. It was the frequent recipient of our objective criminal capture. My cohorts and I blanched with anticipation. We had heard of the Winter Sniper's skill with rifles and the joy he got from painting out people's brains.

  
I held out my internal hope that maybe, in some way, he wasn't really such a monster.

  
The commander walked ahead of us, gesturing to follow. As the briefing given on the truck ride entailed, I behaved like a gang member and kept an adept shady look on my face. The crowd around us gave way, pretending to not notice our distinct aura of hostility. The Midnight Moons Festival provided us with the perfect blanket for this particular mission - we were told to capture the Winter Sniper and end his terror upon the populace.

  
"Hold." Our leader stood still as a stone ahead, just on the corner of the entrance. He craned his head to survey the den.

  
"...turn into a pile of fish sticks I could see in my next meal plan." The voice I heard was in a very strange accent; I shuddered. My peer operators detected the voice as well, and one of them mouthed a prayer in near-complete terror.

  
The commander affirmed all of our suspicions. "It's him." There were several withheld gasps and I realized my heartbeat was quickened with nervous fright. "Alright. We'll go with the secondary plan. He's facing us."

  
In that instant, I felt my gut telling me that this could go horrifyingly wrong. The second plan involved coercing his client and providing a distraction for the Winter Sniper's capture. I knew that he would be too perceptive though. And this sway of doubt froze my feet to the ground, while the rest of the platoon strolled into the building.

 

* * *

  
I only did this mission because I had no choice in mind. Capturing the Winter Sniper was a dream of mine, part of a larger puzzle to climb the prestige ladder. I joined the military police to do just so.

  
I was sick of people calling me an albino freak, a stupid orphan, an inexperienced bastard. I was done with it all.

  
So I vowed to (hopefully) kill a man I didn't even know in order to prove myself to society.

 

* * *

  
Remembering my oath to myself, I trailed on the heels of the rest of my platoon; I took in the scene before me. The bar was just noisy enough to indicate the jollity of the festival, but no more. Several were drunk off their gourd, but most were sober and chattering away. The client we were looking for, described as a Chalcan, was stumbling up to the bartender.

  
At a subtle cue from the commander, I veered towards an empty but massive table with my 'gang members', near the client. I seated myself and listened with intense focus to the alien's narcotic slur.

  
"A voodka, for my frieend." The piscian gestured to the Winter Sniper. The bartender huffed, and the Chalcan put down some credits. "The Old Eearth varieety, pleese." Our platoon commander stumbled up to the Chalcan in a fake drunken ruse. He placed a firm hand on his scaly shoulder, and addressed him with merry intonation. "Friend! Can I interest you in some...quality Honeyfun?"

  
The client blinked his yellow eyes of stoned stupor. He gave a well-meant smile, following the commander back to our platoon's table.

  
"Yes. I've got quite the deal for you." The commander seated himself an empty chair away from me, beckoning the Chalcan to sit next to me. With a cue, a nod of the head, I pulled out my laser pistol underneath the table and nudged it against the Chalcan's thigh, near his groin. "Don't resist," I commanded in a harsh whisper.

  
It took a moment for the Chalcan to register that phrase, but eventually got the jist of what was going on. His scales started to gleam with sweat as his eyes widened to look at everybody.

  
"Look." The commander dished some fake credits from his satchel, piling them in front of the piscian hostage. "Take this and leave. Don't be frantic about it though. Or it'll bite you in the ass later." The Chalcan client nodded his head and got up to leave.

  
I returned my pistol to its belt. A waitress caught my eye as she walked by with the vodka for our wanted criminal. A plan rapidly assembled itself in my mind, in that exact moment.

  
"Hey, you! Come here." She stopped and leaned to hear my request. "Do me a favor, will you? When you deliver that vodka, take it back afterwards, yeah?" I intentionally stacked fake credits into her apron pocket. She nodded, and went off with a smirk.

  
"What are you doing?!" The commander hissed at me.

  
I replied knowingly and tactfully, "Creating our distraction."

 

* * *

 

While I staged myself near the bathroom doors behind the Winter Sniper, pretending to be drunk as hell, I willed my heart to stop incessantly pounding in my ribcage. My pulse was starting to become distracting, and my adrenaline almost initiated another one of my episodes of self-reflection.

  
My attention refocused outward as I saw the target sticking the barrel of his rifle into the waitress' belly. For a moment, I felt concerned about the waitress, recognizing and appreciating the guts she had to do this (even if it was for a few credits).

  
The vodka was served after a sort of reconciliation between the two. I snapped out of my empathetic stupor and carefully sneaked up behind the Winter Sniper. In his confusion as to the disappearance of the vodka, I smashed into the left of his skull with the butt of my pistol.

  
He fell to the floor without a fight, which was unexpected. On further inspection, he even conveniently knocked himself out on the tabletop. For a moment, my hopes surged that he might have been instantly killed by the physical trauma. I checked his pulse to be sure.

  
Out of his neck, a steady pulse proclaimed its existence against my imploring fingertips.

  
I came all this way, and I couldn't even kill a man.

 

* * *

 

My commander congratulated me after we fetched a stretcher to carry the Winter Sniper into the truck outside. I ignored him as best as I could, and filed alongside my peers into the back of the truck.

  
The ride back to the garrison headquarters was tedious. Everyone was celebrating and feeling full of themselves. There were cheers and cries of joy, pats of backs, and smiling expressions of merriment. I contrastingly sulked in self-loathing. My failure may not have been noticed by anyone else, but I threw my mind under the bus over and over again.

 

Weak. Weak. Amateur. Child. Dog. I cursed at myself and gnashed my teeth when a nearby cohort hooked a sleeved hand around my neck. "Free drinks for this guy, yeah?!" I realized that none of them were truly my friends at all. They just wanted glory through my association.

  
I buried my hands into my face and flushed out the sharp lights of the truck interior. A migraine was coming on. The platoon's cries, the barking of the commander to quiet down, the rumble of the engine, it all fueled my agitation. My body shriveled into a ball. A voice inquired on what was wrong.

  
I told whoever it was, "I don't matter right now."

  
They never asked me again.

 

* * *

 

I wearily stepped out the back of the truck, bogged down by fatigue and an ever raging migraine. My boots hit the concrete with an unnerving splash. My reflections had distracted me from recognizing that it had started to rain. As if in confirmation of this revelation, lightning flashed overhead, defining scattered, unsorted crates and other garrison trucks on the platform.

  
Slowly and surely, four of my peers slid the notorious criminal on his stretcher. Raindrops congregated on his face, and a rosy glow permeated his cheeks. The Winter Sniper, I realized at that instant, was actually a particularly youthful individual. It crossed my mind that he could have been my age.

 

I watched the commander pull his garrison communications tool from his belt out of the corner of my eye; I kept my eyes glued to the mysterious youth before me.

  
"Come in, Cell Block C." Static reverberated from the device. "Cell Block C, come in."

  
A sudden chill ran down my spine when an unnaturally deep growl rumbled back from the receiver. My entire body went stiff, as if a looming danger approached that was hidden from plain view.

  
With alarming speed, the Winter Sniper bolted up and struggled against the four stretcher carriers. He looked like a demon hijacked his body, restlessly fighting off a sure package of concussion and breathlessness. A flurry of nearly unintelligible and manic words let fly from his lips, while he fought against the restraint with unbridled passion.

  
"HÄN ON TÄÄLLÄ! SUURI KARHU UNELMISTANI!" He sputtered and coughed at the stretching scream from his vocal chords. All the while, the rumbling growl climbed slowly in volume and intensity.

  
"Get a sedative on him! NOW!" The commander barked aggressively, startling me out of a dazed mesmerization. He dropped the communicator on a nearby crate and leaped to help pin the Winter Sniper down. I fumbled around in my police satchel wildly, pushing aside irrelevant tools and packages to frantically look for the required anaesthetics. My heart pounded mortally against my ribs, reminding me of the sensed doom.

  
"JUMALA! AUTA MINUA! OLEN TÄÄLLÄ, OLEN TÄÄLLÄ!" Sobs resounded through the air as the Winter Sniper's strength began to fail him. The five men restraining him proved to be a worthy force to witness.

  
With temporary relief, my hands closed themselves over the cylindrical package (a standard for every rookie's kit in the force). My boots echoed across the pavement, and my idle peers hastily moved aside to allow me passage; in a few strides, I was beside the criminal himself.

  
The growl cut out with a snap. I unraveled the needle from its package and held it above my head, checking for cracks like I was trained to do in boot camp. The halogen lights of the parking platform sifted through the opaque and thick liquid inside the glass, a perfect container of a molecular world.

  
At that moment, time seemed to stand still. I did not hear my commander's urging to do it, nor did I see my platoon's anxious looks. There was one gravitating power that dragged my gaze downwards.

  
Impossibly complex and radiant eyes ceased my every movement. I drowned in the gaze of chocolate brown eyes that seemed to see through my very soul in intense recognition.

  
"Serkku...Lu...kas....?"

  
Sirens wavered through the air to our ears. The gate at the near end of the platform began to unhinge and open wide, revealing a dark silhouette. A wave of on-setting panic triggered me to give the needle its proper course. The flash sedative quickly circulated in his systems and eventually cut off his speech entirely.

  
Before I could react, laser fire filled the space around me with heat and danger. I dived for a crate, pulling my pistol and willing away the tunnel vision creeping into my newfound adrenaline rush.

  
A dark and menacing figure towered itself above me.

  
It was, in look and gait, a true resemblance of a bear.

  
XXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *HÄN ON TÄÄLLÄ! SUURI KARHU UNELMISTANI! = He's here! (The) large bear of my dreams!
> 
> *JUMALA! AUTA MINUA! OLEN TÄÄLLÄ, OLEN TÄÄLLÄ! = God! Help me! I'm here, I'm here!
> 
> *serkku = cousin


	3. Rise of a Slave

They were everywhere. It was inevitable for him, he knew that much. He had to free himself from the confines of the station. There was so much to explore out there. It would become his adventure - the ultimate conclusion of the alliance.

 

* * *

 

  
Another whip crack. Another slash upon my back. The life force ebbed from my neck. I could still taste iron in my mouth. My teeth ground into my tongue from a consistent and (virtually) chronic pain swamping my entire being.

 

My captor turned my hanging body to face me directly. "Why do you resist still? You belong in these mines, obtaining beautiful Honeyfun materials for people across the galaxy to enjoy..." He captured the whip from his assistant's grasp.

 

I winced after there was another, harsher crack across my bare chest. My wrists strained against their cuffs and chains, bruised and definitively swollen from hours of upright containment. Endurance had faithfully kept me alive for this long.

 

I knew, however, this time, that the disobedience warranted more extreme punishment. A basic refusal to lift one's pick was a farse not received gently by the Overseer. I had been warned many a time by my fellow miners that such retaliation was a suicidal act.

  
"Stop. Resisting. And. Be. Obedient!!!" His yell resonated through the room, punctuated thoroughly with sharp and biting licks of the whip. My abdomen twisted and coiled with every hit.

 

A breath exhaled itself with a sting through my nose, which was brutally battered in the likeness of the rest of my face. I closed my eyes and mentally braced for the next attack. Vision fled from my mind; I willed myself not to blackout.

 

My sight lapsed into faded images of someone I had not seen in a very long time.

 

* * *

  
A meadow of golden wheat and wild grass waved before my face. Beautiful orbs the color of deep earthiness reflected the light of a noon sun. An angel walked before me, beckoning for me to follow. Cherub cheeks smiled in the truest of happiness.

 

My feet were immovable; they would not comply with my desires to join this ethereal being. My gut twisted and turned as I was pulled backwards. Balance fled from me as the ground swallowed wide. An evil passed over my tumbling persona.

 

* * *

  
Whip cracks summoned me from my rumination; I was hurled into my torturous reality once more. Still more lashing, and ever the while, my determination never became marginal.

 

"He won't talk, sir." The assistant grinned at me with hollowing yellow teeth and malevolent glee.

 

"Then send him to the garbage pits." The captor beckoned. I spat more blood out of the corner of my mouth; my body crumpled to the ground as his assistant unlocked the hanging chains above me. My cuffs splashed against the cold and crimson floor, decorated and coated by my own dripping blood.

 

The captor smirked at my broken state and turned his back. He solemnly typed a code into the door to allow him exit. At his departure, the assistant slavered and sputtered. His twisted and hunched figure scanned the torturer's rack beside me. With gnarled and jaundiced hands, he deftly selected a sharpened knife. "I think you're not fully satisfied yet."

 

He ambled back over to me in mocking jollity. "It's festival time; I am fairly certain that calls for joyous celebration." He gripped my skull with fervor and lifted my gaze up at his abominational and sunken face. I spat more blood; this time, the action was a rejection of his supremely ugly and devilish face.

 

"And if you aren't celebrating, then I guess it's my task to do it for you!" He flashed the knife, polished and precise cobium, across my field of vision.

 

* * *

  
The angel returned with a peaceful aura of benevolence. Arms opened to hold me tenderly, like a mother consoling her family. Shining tears stained the beautiful cherubesque cheeks in front of me.

 

These angel tears fell upon me with mercy and kindness.

 

* * *

  
A vigorous font welled and warmed my soul with newfound struggle and strength. Slowly and surely, I rose up on one knee, then another. My stature rose to full height in front of this undesirable and stygian sadist. He began to visibly shake.

 

"What are you gonna do, eh? Fight the hand that feeds?"

 

A distant voice echoed in the inner chamber of my memory. It called out to me with need and longing love; my veins rumbled with a shake and a shiver at the fleeting thought. It seemed to reach and whisper right in my ear:

 

"...fight for me..."

 

The roar finally erupted from my core, freed from submission and months of bending physical tension. Blood whirled in my heart, spurring my toned muscles into a frenzied overdrive. I lurched onto the most potent source of my suffering, right there in front of me.

 

The knife foolishly let slip from his palms; the sadist backed against a corner in a massively engulfing terror.

 

My hands could not be stopped from their retribution. His cranium creaked under the torsion of my wrists, made firm by toiling slavery and laborious mining. I lifted him menacingly from the ground, my cuffs cutting into a pale and warty neck.

 

The torturer's eyes pleaded to me, searching for an ounce of mercy in the turning situation. "You monster! I BEG YOU, PLEASE STO-" With a sickening crunch, his weak temples capsized into his brain. His now frail body collapsed and slumped to the floor sideways.

 

Instinctively, I searched his satchel for a skeleton key (or a key of any kind, for that matter; I simply wished to free my wrists from the grinding circlets that bound them). A single crude and bronze key flashed in the dim light to me. I hastily unlocked the restraints, hissing when they rubbed against my wrists in falling off.

 

In the limited lighting, my hands and arms seemed to be only connected through a lump of indiscernible purpled flesh, a giant bruise that illicited much pain in every movement. The skin of my being stung with sealing scars and drying blood. Dirt from the mines mixed with the injuries to culminate in a thorough cake of grime and sweat.

 

Everything was blurry without my spectacles. I nearly slipped over the bloody floor, in a stunning reversal from my intimidating prowess. My clothes showed themselves on a table across the room. The ragged blue tunic was settled haphazardly over even more ragged and dusty trousers, the possessors of numerous holes. My boots had already been taken from me in one of my previous defiances.

 

I came to a stumbling stop in front of my possessions - which only included the clothes on my back, and nothing more. My worn hands feebly lifted the tunic, rubbing the coarse and dirty fabric with a sense of familiarity. I slipped it on, wincing as it brushed against my abdominal gashes.

 

The trousers came next, hanging loose about my battered hips. With shaking fingers I laced my belt (nothing more than a shoddy rope) around the bottom of the tunic, tying a knot as tight as I could bear. Satisfied with the arrangement, I searched for my spectacles.

 

I located them on the floor through much squinting. Shards of glass were scattered upon the floor, adjacent to a misshapen frame of aluminum alloy. A sigh escaped my bloodied lips; my shoulders rolled in their sockets, stiff from hanging in place for (what must have been) hours.

 

It suddenly occurred to me that escape was within my reach. All I needed to do was find a means to the end, down the corridor and out the door.

 

* * *

  
A quick maneuver and two unconscious station guards later, I was on my road to freedom with a communicator in hand.

 

Out of the thin odorless air, a buzz assaulted the silence. A gruff voice apparitioned through the receiver. "Come in, Cell Block C. Cell Block C, come in." Accompanied by an uncontrolled growl of disapproval, my hands clutched around the receiver in my pocket. My calloused knuckles were blanched against the opaque black of the tool.

 

There seemed to be a struggle on the other end. I listened to an unintelligible demonstration of blurred phonetics.

 

"HÄN ON TÄÄLLÄ! SUURI KARHU UNELMISTANI!"

 

Then a dagger pierced the veil. The memories of the angel connected swiftly, with astronomical precision. I picked and relished every word that was being said, for I had not heard such a beautiful voice in years.

 

My love. My life. The blood within me seemed to reignite yet again; the fever-dreams that haunted me recently now made sense. Tears of hope peppered the flawless obsidian interface in front of my face.

 

"Get a sedative on him! NOW!"

 

The yawning pit reared itself again beneath my soul and I froze for a moment.

 

"JUMALA! AUTA MINUA! OLEN TÄÄLLÄ, OLEN TÄÄLLÄ!"

 

The will of a warrior gripped my muscles with iron conviction and forced them to obey the command to save. I was happy to comply with the notion. My hands slammed on the door controls next to me.

 

For a time, all else was a dream. I can only remember the smell of rifle fire.

 

* * *

  
There was a harsh slap across my face. I found myself dazed and disoriented, on one knee in front of a smiling man and a teen with silver locks. My hair hung dripping in my eyes, the rain making soft echoes on the metal ground. I surveyed the environment around me, trying to get my bearings.

 

When I saw the door I had exited across the platform, the man spoke up.

 

"Uh...are ya doin' good? ...I mean, are ya okay and stuff?"

 

I quickly summed up this compassionate stranger in thought. His blond hair seemed unaffected by the rain, obnoxious like his voice. His clothes weren't so different from mine - they were certainly in tatters. No, this man was well. He was even drunk, yet not a typically slow drunk. He was an alcoholic probably.

 

"Uh, can ya even talk or somethin', ya rock?"

 

I turned my attention to the young individual cowered on the ground beside me, ignoring the drunkard. He stared back in immense horror, tears streaming down his face. The kid didn't even look over seventeen. His pistol and satchel lay scattered around him in a contained puddle, just like his emotions.

 

A resounding thud behind me grabbed my attention. I turned and surveyed the full scene, startled at what I saw. The freshly deceased corpses of maimed garrison guards were strewn across the platform. Some bled, and others showed off exposed bone. One had his arm shoved through his jaw, straight out the back of the neck.

 

"Yeah, ya kinda did that actually dude..." The drunkard ventured with caution to quell my apparent rage. "And, uh, there was a dude screamin' earlier. Somethin' 'bout a sedative."

 

Calloused hands wiped at the sweat and grime on my face. It didn't do anything but smear more blood on my face. I couldn't see anything. A slim hand placed a clean cloth-piece in my palms. A wipe to clear the world revealed the timid face of the young teen. I had a sudden moment of nostalgia in looking at the young police operative's face.

 

"Is that someone you know over there?" He pointed over my shoulder to the truck. I squinted with effort, but I could not make out what he was showing me. Eventually, the obnoxious drunk helped me over to the object of importance.

 

"Here's that dude."

 

My eyes widened and a low gasp resonated from my chest. I used the teen's cloth to wipe at the muck on the face lying before me.

 

Sure enough, I had found my love. I held the dear body up close to me, taking in the invigorating sight of puffy cheeks and innocent countenance. My arms shook with trepidation, as if the situation were simply too good to behold. I laid a gentle kiss upon a youthful forehead, thanking chance for the occasion.

 

My heart was at ease, for the moment.

 

XXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *HÄN ON TÄÄLLÄ! SUURI KARHU UNELMISTANI! = He's here! (The) large bear of my dreams!
> 
> *JUMALA! AUTA MINUA! OLEN TÄÄLLÄ, OLEN TÄÄLLÄ! = God! Help me! I'm here, I'm here!
> 
> *serkku = cousin


	4. Rise of a Drunk

They were everywhere. It was inevitable for him, he knew that much. He had to free himself from the confines of the station. There was so much to explore out there. It would become his adventure - the ultimate conclusion of the alliance.

 

* * *

 

  
With my trusty bottle of beer in one hand and a delicious kebab in the other, I was having a good time, I thought. Shit, I thought, even Gil and Al would be jealous of the amazing stuff the Midnight Moons Festival had for food... I mean, nothing gets better than an alien crop that classifies as a vegetable but tastes like a Class-A steak, or a naturally lemon-flavored space beer....!

 

It was all a freaking blast!

 

I laughed merrily and sloppily drowned myself in the rest of the beer in my bottle. My feet scuffled along the pavement at a merry pace. I didn't mind that people were looking at me like I was diseased. Some alien chic scooted her kids away from me, but I didn't care!

 

* * *

  
I have to address it every night. After every hangover, when I wake up from the slur, I hate myself a little more. I'm a bum. I'm a womanizer, but I keep telling myself it'll be okay.

 

It'll be okay. It'll be okay.

 

I jump from girl to girl, but I can never figure out what the hell it is. I can't get it.

 

When I was younger, several years younger, I went on a really long walk, in the wintertime. A freezing walk. Past the Honeyfun mines, and that was when I saw her. One of the slaves, walking to the medical tents painted with a crimson red. Her platinum blonde hair was matted and dirty in the sunlight, and her face was caked with ash, but gods.

 

How beautiful. She was perfect, the right kind of cheekbones, even with the grime and dust.

 

I couldn't even find her again, when I went back over and over again.... it was like she vanished into thin air.

 

My Ice Queen, I took to calling her. It was a sad obsession, love at first sight. It was like I had a vision of the future or something.

 

No woman I got with compared to her. None of them came close. My drunk ass was always desperate for something, but something would never amount to her.

 

Yeah, maybe it wasn't the best idea to hit the drink. But I refused to take to the Honeyfun, because it reminded me more of my Ice Queen. I guess I messed up my already shit life.

 

* * *

  
I saw a pawn shop next to me, with a bunch of accessories and general junk. My drunken body drifted over to the hottie of a shopkeep, but my eyes immediately transfixed themselves on a dull but metallic tin hair clip in a plastic box. The shape echoed of a symbol I saw drawn in the dust down at the mining complex occasionally: a cross.

 

The mines. Ice Queen.

 

My pockets were emptied of the last of my money. Before I could register what had happened, I was walking away with no credits and the tin clip in my hand. It felt cold and foreign, exotic in my grasp.

 

The unfamiliar brightness of halogen lights reflected off the clip opaquely.

 

What? Shit. I just walked right up to the gates of the police compound and I didn't even realize --

 

A vehicle drove up to the gate in front of me, and I stumbled back in shock. I could feel my veins throb faintly, bogged down by alcohol... Shit, how much did I drink, how much does that matter?

 

I followed the vehicle in, I felt the adventure in me coming out. My dumbass curiosity was getting the better of me again, but shit, I didn't mind at all. I stumbled right up to the back of the vehicle and grabbed on.

 

My vision swam...then I realized the vehicle had stopped. A distant call of danger told me to let go and dive onto the steel platforming underneath the police van. I had barely gotten down there when a whole platoon of officers came out of the vehicle.

 

I ended up swallowing some of the water pooling beneath the van, and hells was it disgusting; it tasted like ass and pickles, and not the good kind of pickles, I'm talking like really mutated sewage vegetables. Anyway, yeah, the rainfall was hecking nasty.

 

I kept my bobbing head up enough to see the end of what looked like an operation of some kind. I squinted my eyes against the glare of the halogen lighting on the steel landing, and the rainy haze that was coming down. The police group had some poor fellow out on a stretcher, couldn't tell whether he was one of them or not. They had some fairly old guys on their platoon, but one looked pretty young.

 

He looked familiar, for sure. Kid couldn't have been more than eighteen, barely. Close enough, I could see he didn't even have peach fuzz, or if he did the albino didn't show it well. But I swear to gods he looked so familiar!

 

The commander fella barked into his talking box, apparently trying to get a response. Oh, he got a response alright, just not the one any of us were expecting. It sounded like they got a demon loose in the complex or something, shit gave me the creepy crawlies.

 

The dude on the stretcher shot up like someone shoved a catheter up his ass, screaming bullshit that kind of convinced me they did have a demon running loose. I'm pretty sure I was close to pissing myself at that point. Shit was getting spooky.

 

The young albino fella was gonna pull out a syringe of some kind and jab the screamer, but then shit went downhill faster than a Beta Mygisan on steroids at the derby...shit went down faster than I could follow with my drunk ass, amazing that I was still awake then.

 

I kept my head down and palmed the hairpin in my pocket, praying vainly to any being that would listen, for hell's sake. Everything smelled like laser fire and ass and sewer pickles, and GODS I thought I was gonna vomit my innards out from the terribleness! Then...

 

...it all went silent. I crawled out from under the van when I saw all the police dudes dead except the kid. There was a tall mothertrucker of a dude kneeling by him, kid looked like he was gonna piss his pants like me. Some asinine protective instinct emerged out of my drunk stupor, and I pretty much just sauntered up and slapped the grizzled bastard right in the face!

 

Oh, you drunk bitch, I thought, you made a mistake, digging your grave early. I looked at the corpses around me and even then I made this connection that this dude was a freaking monster. I mean, kudos to him for putting an arm out the back of a dude's neck, but SHIT. That's hardcore to the tippiest next level!

 

The gruff tall fella looked around in confusion, seeming to calm down to...normal, I guess. When he looked to the gate, I broke the silence with my slurred voice.

 

"Uh...are ya doin' good? ...I mean, are ya okay and stuff?"

 

Both of them stared at me, one in confusion and one in obvious trauma.

 

"Uh, can ya even talk or somethin', ya rock?" I took another jab at the grizzled monster. He ignored me and looked down in...concern? At the drenched, shaking, white-haired pile of broken hopes and scattered equipment.

 

I think the tall dude finally realized what the hell he did, because he squinted around at the dead police officers in fascination (and maybe satisfaction, I thought I saw a smirk from the bastard).

 

"Yeah, ya kinda did that actually dude..." I quipped heartily, sensing that danger had passed for now. "And, uh, there was a dude screamin' earlier. Somethin' 'bout a sedative."

 

The albino pipsqueak put a cloth in the tall guy's hands surprisingly, his face blanched and pale like his hair but obviously showing some kind of wierd instinctual sympathy.

 

The grizzled man wiped his face gently. To my surprise yet again, the teenager spoke out in a gruff voice.

 

"Is that someone you know over there?" He pointed past the monster's shoulder to the unconscious guy on the stretcher. The man looked confused, so I moved to help him out. I staggered on over and tapped him on the shoulder cautiously, gesturing sloppily. Somehow he got the hint.

 

There was this sudden light of recognition in his eyes that seemed to just change him completely -- he went from stiff to melted in a matter of moments, rushing over to the stretcher in fervor. He hugged the unconscious person tightly, wiping their face and kissing it.

 

Everything was beginning to feel wierd for me, both emotionally and physically. Without a warning, I leaned away from the others and retched for what felt like a solid several minutes. The rain washed away my vomit while I wondered how I missed my clothes completely.

 

The teen came up next to me and handed me a flask. "You should drink some water once you stop throwing up." I mumbled some vague gratitude and then staggered away to vomit again.

 

* * *

  
In essence, from what I could remember, we stood there for a while, them waiting awkwardly for me to feel more stable to do introductions. The adrenaline had kept me from getting any more tipsy from the alcohol, but now the lack of action had forced a reality check on my liver.

 

Seriously, how much did I drink?

 

Anyway, we basically awkwardly remained in each other's presence. Then it seemed like the kid had a revelation, which he hesitantly voiced to the two conscious assholes present, me and the grizzled bastard.

 

"I don't want to be an officer anymore." He frowned in confusion. "This is too dangerous for me. I'm defecting."

 

I shrugged wearily. "People do things that do them happy, ya know."

 

The tall guy shrugged and grunted, holding the unconscious fella close to him still and ignoring the sopping drenchness of his clothes.

 

The albino saw the intimacy and ventured a question. "How do you know the Winter Sniper?"

 

My blood went cold, lungs shrieking. "That innocent face belongs ta tha most notorious assassin around?!?" I stumbled shakingly over. "He doesn' even look like a criminal!!"

 

The tall guy's face turned ominous and ashen at the kid's words, studying the figure lying in his arms. "He's a crim'nal now?"

 

"Yeah." The albino kneeled alongside him; I guess he sensed that the guy hadn't been out in public for years. "There's a bounty of 6 million credits on his head for killing off various corporate executives."

 

"I'm surprised ya guys caught him, wow!" I quipped. "I heard tha dude's a hella good sneak!"

 

"I w'nna know what y' did t' him."

 

The pipsqueak paled a bit. "Per regulations, I gave him a sedative."

 

I felt my stomach swim at the convulsed look the bear shot our young defective officer. My nerves felt like they were in mud.

 

The big guy softened his gaze after a moment of intensity. "I forg've y'."

 

"What?" He and I exclaimed at the same time. My head swam from the noise, damn that cheap booze.

 

"I forg've y'. Y' w're just doin' yer job."

 

Albino ex-cop-wannabe relaxed, but the moment his shoulders dropped it was like fate was trying to wipe our asses with sandpaper.

 

Immediately, one of the comms on the dead officers started squawking with a transmission. Everyone conscious went into a panic and tensed up. My fears of being put into jailtime were sobering me up real fast. Too fast. "Let's scat!"

 

The kid looked about ready to hang on my non-existent coattails and high-foot it straight out, but we were stopped by the bear's assertively hazardous voice.

 

"NO. 'M not leav'n'."

 

"Why?! You'll just get captured and arrested for manslaughter!" The pipsqueak croaked. "That's suicidal!"

 

"Tino...would want m' t' go get Lukas." He looked down at the innocent face cradled in his arms. "He needs h's cous'n."

 

"Cousin?" The word slipped from my mouth dimly. Was it possible that the assassin had a relative in the mines or the police complex? Actually, that made complete sense.

 

"I'm an idiot." I barely uttered.

 

The albino gave me a look before having some sort of lightbulb moment. "You said his cousin's name was Lukas?"

 

"Ya. I need t' go get h'm."

 

The kid stood up and straightened his uniform with a grim countenance. "Something wants me to help you. I don't understand why, but I'm letting it happen."

 

"Introductions? I'd love ta get tha names of ya fellas 'fore we die, if there's no trouble ta it!" I quipped in a faux-jovial fashion. The alcohol gave one last kick in and I smiled like an Old Earth puppy. "Please? I'm Mathias. Mat fer shortsies."

 

"Huh. Spoken like a true drunk." The albino shrewdly belched. "I guess I'm Emil. No big celebrations, I'm a pretty shitty person."

 

"'M Berwald." The gruff bear stood to his full height, clutching the Winter Sniper over his shoulder. "W' should go."

 

"Yeah." Emil exhaled shakily.

 

"Yeah!" I all but bellowed. "It's an effin' adventure, kids!"

 

I got incredulous looks from the two guys in front of me. I shrugged and grinned toothily. "Cut me some slack, I'm piss drunk."

 

And then we just went back in the building, on a crazy-ass suicidal quest to save some cousin of a sniper. I vomited again eventually, of course.

 

XXX


	5. Rise of a Freak

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for intense pessimism/angst in this chapter.

They were everywhere. It was inevitable for him, he knew that much. He had to free himself from the confines of the station. There was so much to explore out there. It would become his adventure - the ultimate conclusion of the alliance.

 

* * *

  
Prodded.

 

Prodded again.

 

My brain shouts at them all. Go away! In vain.

 

The scientists don't stop their analyses. They love the objectivity, their abuse of power and humanity.

 

Another syringe. Another liquid analgesic, more stupor and chokeholds on my mind.

 

Assault. Visions of violence.

 

Somewhere there is the tin of static, the smell of fresh hemoglobin and spurred emotions leaking into the air.

 

Crazed. Temporal dysfunctionality. "Sedate it more. 25cc is not enough, the telepsychosis levels are rising again. Bring it to 35."

 

Obedience. Chains. Picks and prodding of the earth, crystallized memories ebb out of my periphery, a dance of stimulation and seductive nostalgia.

 

Again, they place another rat in front of me.

 

Again, I overcome the drugs and destroy its existence out of the sick and twisted madness they creeped into me. More fresh hemoglobin. Perfectly compressed spinal bundling. Fur coats the table. It's a neat look, I think.

 

"How is it possible that's it's still violent at such a high dosage?" The lead quack gaffs. His sickening glasses flash virulently in the impersonal light. "Any normal humanoid would be in sedated euphoria at 20cc!"

 

"Doctor, it's clear that there's some sort of biological aspect going on we don't understand. We should hold off on further trials until we can open the subject and examine for signs of somatic turbulence, specifically in the hippocampus."

 

"It can't be helped. I didn't want to dabble in this one's magnificent brain, but we have no choice when it comes to progress in our little scientific world."

 

Invaders. Kill trespassers. Go away.

 

A loud bang and the flash of metal, and I overturn the anchored table piled with dead rats with child-like pride. All the doctors are cowered down near the cobium baseboards of my humble room.

 

Fear me. Leave me be.

 

"35cc is not enough, clearly. We should proceed with alert caution, Director."

 

I am attacked. I feel more liquid drive into my being. My nerves cry with every sheath of their axons, fueled by adrenaline, lusting for more reciprocation of bodily violation. To return the favor of these so-called doctors.

 

"Die." I utter. The words barely release off my chapped and deprived lips, and a ballpoint stylus whizzes through the solar plexus of the nearest scientist. An avenged display of brutality, return to primacy, I desecrate as I am desecrated. They dug their grave before it was marked for them.

 

What result were they testing for? My complete refusal of submission?

 

I. Am. Human. TREAT ME AS SUCH OR DIE.

 

Whiplash, and yet another hole is sewn through the assistant's body, the floor bathing itself in cakes of crimson, crimsoned cakes.

 

Slip-side. Fun, I think, as they roll around helplessly on the floor, drinking in the rising warmth, gore, gore, gore.....!!!!!!

 

Time accelerates rapidly, my short-term memory cannot process my actions as space-time seems to collapse...

 

* * *

 

Huh? Where am I?

 

This is not the lab. Not my room. Not the toilet either.

 

Who is that? A strange shocked man I've never seen before? A smaller scared child?

 

I smell their fear, I edge towards craze again, but then I smell the blood of kin.

 

I don't remember. I can't remember. I shouldn't remember. I won't remember.

 

Angry man. Soft kin. I hesitate. Conflict.

 

My vision fades, weakens out of control.

 

Things are happening that I give up on understanding about. They want to hurt me again, unabashedly, with fear but not the kind of fear I'd like.

 

Leave me alone!

 

Please...

 

* * *

  
Rumble rumble. Vibrations. Machinery. Cold, familiar, alike, withstanding. Stable. What I am not.

 

"Are you awake, Lukas?"

 

Lukas? Who is that name's possessor? My eyelids release and blink in the darkness. My back aches.

 

I reach up to grab something, anything, to raise myself. My fingers feel warm skin, and I cling to the sensation like a foetus.

 

Who is a slave to that mentality? Of being called Lukas? Is that...me?

 

"It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you. It's me, Tino. Breathe, Lukas, everything's going to be okay." I admonish myself into the rotund feeling the voice provides, soft, maternal.

 

Tino. Tino. I missed you.

 

"Is sh -- uh, he okay? I can't really tell." A quieter voice. Meek.  
Baby brother?

 

"Ya, he's in shock. It'll b' a long time 'fore he's really b'ck with 's."

 

Berwald. I know these voices. But I cannot see them. I want to see them!

 

My fingers scrabble at the cloth barricades around my eyes desparately. A soft hand holds my pinky. "Your eyes are hurt, Lukas. Keep the bandage on, okay?"

 

Trust Tino. Trust Tino. I will myself to calmness. I place my hand in the crook of my collarbone, tapping at it rhythmically, gently, soothing myself, seeking peace of mind.

 

Rumbles. Rumbles. I hum in discontent.

 

"What's wrong Lukas?" Tino asks me.

 

I rumble. It's the moving room, it makes me sick, but my voice won't go...

 

"Hey Mathias! Don't go so fast, you're upsetting Lukas!"

 

I hear an annoying voice belt out from my left. "Ya, I would, but we're bein' chased!!"

 

A clunk of a footstep. Berwald got up, I can feel him brush against my shoulder as he passes. The smell of the mines is strong from him.

 

There's the meek voice again, heavy with bitterness. "We got 3 coppers on our asses. Great, looks like it's Yao's squad. Fan-fricking-tastic."

 

A metal door opens somewhere in the moving room, and the sudden drop in air temperature urges me to curl harder into Tino's tiny but rotund frame. Wind begins to nip at everything.

 

Berwald. "We've g't time." The door closes.

 

"Thank god the piss-drunk has driving experience to pilot this. Even in my police training, those bags of shit never let me have piloting privilege."

 

I tear the cloth away from my eyes despite Tino's warning. It's dark. Somewhere, ambient lights make the contours of his face light up, his irises a gentle earthen color.

 

"It's okay, Lukas." He says slowly. "You're not in the mines anymore. Berwald and I and a couple of other people are here with you, we won't let you be abused anymore."

 

The annoying voice again. "Can I ask a, uh, question, Tino? That's, uh, yer name, right?" I turn and look where the sound comes from. There's a strangely smiling man sitting in a seat. This must be a vehicle of some kind, he's driving it.

 

Tall metal blocks whiz by us at a blurred pace. It hurts my eyes to focus on any of them, so I bury my face back into Tino's shoulder. Now I only see a dim orange glow.

 

Tino's frame vibrates as he hums a positive response. "Yeah, but be careful about what you ask."

 

Berwald grunts in agreement.

 

Annoying man speaks again. "What happened ta Ic- Lukas, I mean?"

 

I can feel Tino tense as he seems to flounder for a response. As he tries to speak for me, Berwald cuts in with a grunt.

 

"Luk's was exp'rim'nted on."

 

The meek voice speaks up again. "What, like a lab rat?"

 

"W'rse. They mess'd with his mind."

 

"Sooooo he's basically a psychopath now?"

 

I feel disappointment and yet acceptance of that labeling. Psychopath. I am too rebellious for my captivity, I should be submitted to this stigma of insanity. I disobeyed my masters in the mines, I disobeyed the scientists, I should be punished....

 

"NO!" Tino's voice snarls against the leather seat. My eyes snap open in time to catch his rotund form shifting away to make a choke hold around the blond driver's neck.

 

"Woah woah WOAH, CALM THE HELL DOWN." The young boy behind me senses the overprotective side of Tino and raises his voice. "Shit, I knew this was a bad idea, now I wish I would have actually killed you!"

 

Berwald looks over at the albino and a stern expression engrosses his face with a scary amount of 'I will kill you if you say that again' emotion.

 

Annoying blonde splutters out of panic and loses his grip on the wheel, at which point my mind immediately snaps to lucidity out of fear. The vehicle begins to tip forward at an increasing pace, while the blonde wrestles to free himself from Tino's muscled flex.

 

My lithe body sandwiches my cousin into the driver's seat from the inertia, where he intensifies his chokehold without fear of the consequences. "You taKE BACK WHAT YOU SAID ABOUT LUKAS, YOU BASTARD OF A DRUNK!"

 

"HEY! LET GO OF HIM OR WE'RE GONNA DIE!" I hear the teenager shriek. The sound reverberates endlessly in the metal capsule of a transport we're all in. The stress begins to spike. I watch several other vehicles dive and swerve to avoid our descending course.

 

"T'NO. LET GO OF 'M." Berwald stands abruptly and tries to correct the wheel, pulling up on the mount with as much force as he can muster. The engine strains under the sudden maneuver and we marginally avoid the destruction of a floating advertisement sign. But Berwald over-corrected, and now we're flying upwards at an even more alarming speed. "What th'--"

 

"Shitshitshitshitshitshit!!!!!" The teen scrambles to the front and shoves Berwald out of the way. I barely register the sling of technical phrases being thrown from the young boy's mouth before his fingers glide fluidly over virtually every button in sight, trying for lightning fast solutions and not receiving any benefits.

 

"SHITSHITSHIT--"

 

A gasp escapes my mouth as a junkbird bounces off the window at literal neck-breaking speed, beak shattered and body barraged by the resistance of the vulcanized glass.

 

"K-ack--" The man in Tino's chokehold splutters again. "I-I take it--"

 

A high pitch scream from the boy's lungs covers up the last part of the drunk's apology, along with a collective cry from Tino and Berwald. Before I can figure out what's happening, there's a violent collision from some direction and we're barrel rolling out of control.

 

At some point, I feel arms wrap around me protectively, the whine of the engine fades away from my ears, glass is shattering distantly, and my vision goes red...and then... dark as an eclipse.

 

I will accept what I expect is death. After all, my life has been torturous up until this point.

 

What would make it all better, if I will only be called a freak?

 

XXX


	6. The Silence Between

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while, everyone. I found the most unsuspecting source of inspiration in a chance visit to an emergency room. (Don't worry, I'm fine!)

 

 

I opened my eyes slowly, head throbbing, vision hazy, tongue dry like a vacuum.

 

My ears rang from the aftermath of the crash, and there was the sound of distant engines and other kinds of mechanisms.

 

Words rolled off my lips without a moment's notice, shock setting in.

 

"How the fuck am I not dead?" More of a statement than a question, honestly. My survey of the area caught a glimpse of the police van's wreckage to my 2 o'clock. We were at the very bottom of a narrow alleyway or trench of some kind, the sort that reminded me of the kind of shit I was shown in police training, those places where drug addicts or rapists could hang out at.

 

Wait, we?

 

Oh yeah, I had almost forgot at that point that I had crashed with a bunch of strangers. And that I had defected from the force.

 

Ohhhhh shit, I had thought.

 

Yao's gonna be hunting me from the ends of the world and back...

 

I remember willing my legs to support my weight as I stood. There was so much pain, my sensitive skin harassing me with stabs of tension. It took so much to make no noise.

 

A distant cry drew my attention back towards the rubble, to which I hastily sauntered over. My breath caught as my eyes took in the state of things.

 

The van's back door had been blown wide off at some point, its deformity glaringly obvious to the naked eye as it lied next to where I had gotten up. The front bottom side of the vehicle's frame was cleanly pressed into the concrete, irreplaceably damaged. The force-resistant windshield, designed to withstand bullet-sized impacts, had buckled and shattered under the impact against the certainly solid ground.

 

I really should be dead. How?

 

There was another cry on my immediate right, and I startled backwards when I recognized the bear -- I think his name was Berwald -- throw open the other half of the deformed door to the back of the van with much force, giving a great rumble of a roar that sent my bones quivering. The remaining half was promptly shaken straight off the hinges, scraping the ground with a cringing screech and thud.

 

After all had quieted, he rubbed his eyes, stepping down onto the brazen ground. "'R y' okay?"

 

"Well enough, surprised I'm not dead." I replied truthfully.

 

"Mm." He assented, turning back to look in the van. I took his hint and followed over.

 

He had apparently curled around the Winter Sniper in the moment before the crash, I guessed. Berwald was the more bruised externally. The smaller man was curled up on the back seat where I remembered him before the crash.

 

I hesitantly went in to them. There was a lot of debris up in the air inside, and I fought back a cough. The desolation felt more raw on the inside of the vehicle, since you could see where the outside was torn in along the sides. We must have crashed along a wall.

 

The Winter Sniper was not the only one Berwald was curled around, it would seem. Both men had formed a human shield around the strange person they called Lukas.

 

The Winter Sniper grunted and opened his eyes steadily, slowly looking down at Lukas to see if he was okay.

 

"Hey, Lu..." He gently rubbed his ward's shoulder. "Lukas, are you okay? Please...wake up..."

 

Berwald stepped around me and leaned an ear towards Lukas' mouth, simultaneously feeling for a pulse on the neck. "'S alive, Tino. M'ybe a c'ncussion."

 

The Winter Sniper, Tino, looked up at Berwald worryingly. "I'm gonna see if that drunk's still alive. Watch Lukas until I come back over."

 

Berwald nodded. They seemed to have some semblance of a unique bond I had never seen before. This remarkable observation was eventually snapped out by a sudden stench of generic burning I had only just then noticed as I breathed in. My lungs gave two mighty hacks.

 

"Hey, you insensitive dumbass, are you alive?!" Tino all but shook the life out of the drunk's body. The blond with spiky hair coughed, once, twice, cursed under his breath, then opened his eyes.

 

"I thought I was 'n heav'n, but I guess I'm 'n hell." He looked up weakly at Tino and smiled brutishly. I could see, even from where I stood, he was missing a tooth. His face and arms had suffered many bruisings and bashings, with an occasional glass piece making a dig in the skin. "Are ya tha devil?"

 

"Fuck off. I'm still pissed on what you said about Lukas." Tino cracked his knuckles, walking back to Berwald and I. His personality seemed to be a somewhat fiery one, something unstable and wildly changing, reactionary. Though he showed his soft side towards Lukas and Berwald, he wore diamond on himself when talking with anyone else. That's the first impression he gave me, back then. "What's the plan now? We need to keep moving, or we'll get swarmed."

 

A wide groan emerged from Mathias as he slowly stood up out of the driver's seat. "I have a place, we could run there an' hide. If we need ta get off world, I've a way fer that too." He cursed more, picking glass out of his arms. "Shit, ma head's poundin' harder than a quantum pile-driver at a pro-wrestlin' meet."

 

Tino scoffed and turned away, not giving any attention to Mathias' offers. I could understand why Tino was angered, but I thought Mathias had a point, so I vocalized my opinion promptly: "Yeah. Mathias is right. I defected from the force, so the military police will be putting a bounty on my head. Not that I care too much, but it causes danger for us, you know?" I looked down at my ashen boots in disgust.

 

Berwald moved to lift Lukas with a still surprising amount of delicateness into his arms. An ash cloud puffed from the seat as his slight weight was finally lifted.

 

Ever since I had first seen him, I had thought that Lukas was frail. His neck was so slender, shoulders and hips bony. At first I thought he was a girl, he was so lightweight. The long ash-covered tunic that was probably from the laboratory fell past the knees, and the feet were borderline skeletal. I remembered the way Lukas' eyes looked in the dark before the crash -- deep as the blue on a star chart, looking into me for something.

 

I shuddered.

 

Tino gave me a strange look, then looked at Berwald.

 

I coughed. "I'm just in shock." Mathias groaned in painful agreement, even though he really couldn't know the real reason I shivered. He patted his hands on his pockets for some unknown reason.

 

Tino gave both of us a stern look, then hopped out of the back of the van with much impetus and not much to say.

 

Berwald stepped down next, carefully absorbing the shock for his cargo.

 

Before I could move to get out, Mathias had sat down and slid out, and then I finally followed suit.

 

I checked my person to make sure I had my kit, finding it snugly (but externally ravaged) against my left hip.

 

* * *

 

Mathias had us walking for what felt like an hour through various alleyways, but we got to his pad soon enough. Remarkably few things happened on the way there, thankfully. The highlight was Berwald scaring a drunk Chalcan into a garbage dump with his appearance alone. Yeah, not much happened.

 

The boisterous blond lived near the Park District slums, in a cramped high-rise that looked out over a bunch of other high-rises, which in turn gave their inhabitants shitty views of the heavy traffic, which paraded around the city night and day. It was such a dreary place, barely any better than the mining complex. I had only been to the Park District once on training, but I still don't remember it being as disappointing as that singular building that Mathias let us into.

 

When it all comes down to it, though, it was better than being homeless. That much I could recognize, since that's what I had for most of my childhood. Even if the wallpaper revealed evidence of all sorts of things... of the insect variety.

 

There was a Antweren woman at the front desk flipping through some kind of saucy magazine. Her carnivorous eyes peered out at us from between the scaly ridges of her nose, judging our trajectory with baited breath. "Sssso, back again soon, Mat?" she growled out.

 

Mathias grinned sheepishly in response, flashing out his key card to her. "Ya. I got tired earlier than usual tonight."

 

"Mm-hm. Ssssso, keep it down tonight, your doppelganger on the 12th landing made a complaint to me yesterday about the noise, said that you were getting another." The Antweren desk ward's fangs bared themselves. "Ssssssso, I would venture she wasn't good for you?"

 

I looked up to Mathias' face, watching his reactions go from disgust to embarrassment to defeat. He sighed and rubbed his head. "Nah, she was gone when I woke up. Sorry about that, though. It won't happen tonight."

 

She looked at us one by one, like she was achieving the impossible task of discerning each of our most terrible secrets. For the record, I once heard a rumor that Antwerens were insanely good at both telling lies and reading truthful statements.

 

Seeing all of us in a tired state must have been the most convincing thing. It also seemed as if she knew Mathias for a long time, 'cause she finally said: "Ssssssso it is so. Rest up, you all look like shit."

 

I would have snapped back at her under normal circumstances, but even my mouth was finding it difficult to form words under the intense fatigue setting in. I simply just flashed her a thumbs down as I followed everyone to the elevator.

 

I heard one final hiss of a reply eek through the closing metallic gap. "Sssssssssso kids these fucking days, can't even show respect."

 

Mathias pressed on the glass of the interface, aggressively tapping the icon for the 13th floor. "You have ta do it like this, else nothin' will happen. Makes ya think it's kinda cursed, right?"

 

Dimly, my mind registered the fact that I was -- we were all -- putting trust in each other, doing something completely foreign and exhausting and utterly scary. I remember feeling that fleeting instance of epiphany before it was charmed away by the lights in the elevator flickering out and the motor stopping on the third floor.

 

I heard Tino exclaim angrily behind me, suddenly finding myself shoved against the coldness of the cobium door. "....you basTARD, WHAT DID YOU DO!?" Before he could find Mathias' body in the darkness, Berwald had pinpointed Tino's waist and snaked an arm around to restrain him. Someone's arm smacked my face, probably from Lukas as he was juggled in the bear's muscular arms.

 

Mathias squeaked. "Good gods, calm down! This is normal, tha elevator does this every single time!" He seemed to know what was going on, for the elevator was illuminated and moving again in less in 10 seconds.

 

He rubbed his eyes. "It's justa glitch in tha system, ya know?"

 

Tino visibly seethed at Mathias, once again pushed to the brink of catastrophe. As the display rang out the floor numbers above our heads, I espied the crook of Berwald's hand wrapping itself farther around Tino's waist, pressing the two of them together as close as was physically manageable. "Calm d'wn, Tino. Yer only g'nna make y'rself sick."

 

The smaller man assented and trained his gaze on the door.

 

After what seemed like eternity, the elevator robotically announced the 13th landing and slid open. Mathias nudged his way out first, leading us down the ill-decorated hallway to his apartment. The rusty numbers 1397 boldly displayed their corrosion to all on the door he opened.

 

"Welcome to my place!" He smiled at all of us kindly, despite having immense dark bags under his eyes and a missing tooth and a massive hangover.

 

Tino scoffed at him as he went in, Berwald following in silently. I had whispered a 'thank you' almost inaudibly to Mathias as I also went in. He didn't hear me, but that was fine. Maybe it was for the best, you know?

 

Anyway, I took in the contents of Mathias' apartment with mixed curiosity and boredom.

 

He had one singular wide window directly across from the door. The main room was centered by a semicircle leather couch facing the wall behind us. I saw a Wide-Display-Vision up on the wall in front of the couch, a rather luxurious item for a place like this. One door on the right was open, revealing a surprisingly well-kept bathroom complete with a shower. The other door was closed, leading to what I suspected was the bedroom. The entire interior was themed in red and yellow, which was, frankly, not exactly my favorite color scheme. Then again, I didn't really have an option.

 

Not that it matters, but the miniature kitchen, with its freshly furnished bar stools, was spotless too.

 

Mathias bounced right in, seeming to have a second wind as he excitedly closed and locked the door behind himself. "Make yourselves at home! You can sleep wherever you'd like, I have enough blankets to make my own castle out of!"

 

What the hell is a castle?

 

That question unvoiced, I rested my legs by sitting on one of the red stools near the (despicably yellow) fridge. Tino sat down near the end of the couch closest to the door, watching Berwald place Lukas down, so that his head was resting in Tino's lap. Berwald then eased himself down onto the couch with much sore movement, grunting as his legs finally gave out. Tino smiled slightly.

 

Mathias had quickly excused himself into the bathroom, citing his alcoholic spree at the festival. He must have tried something really weird.

 

While the uncomforting sounds of purging echoed dimly through the door, I zoned out to the melancholic view from the window. My mind was crossing through a myriad little wondrances and questions about the events that had just happened.

 

It seemed only like a day ago, I was joking with Leon about leaving the force over a standard lunch.

 

* * *

 

"Emil, you don't look so hot today."

 

"Huh, thanks for reaffirming what I already know."

 

Leon leans into my face to get eye contact. "No. I'm not reaffirming something you already know. You don't know. You feel like shit, but you do nothing about it." He stabs chopsticks angrily through his artificial Mygisan eggroll.

 

I poke my own eggroll with disinterest. "I'm just sick and tired of this bullshit, this hierarchical and dogmatic pressure. I have to get 3 more F-star badges before I can go up a rank, but the earning term ends this Tuesday. Don't you realize how short a time that is? It's fucking ludicrous. It's triple the risk of getting my ass done in for adrenaline failure."

 

Leon sighs, of course he does. He's in the force because his dad is, of course he has absolutely jack shit to worry about. Yao's a snake who muscled his entire family into the force because he sees them as pawns, or so I heard. That's what Leon's been saying, anyway, I heard it from him directly.

 

I scarf down my eggroll without warning or precedent. "Leon. I'm thinking about leaving the force." Barely a whisper.

 

His chopsticks clatter on the steel table. "...What?"

 

"You heard me." I train my odd-colored eyes into his completely acceptable brown ones. He stares back at me wildly, his bangs catching in the slight wind. The sun beats down without remorse. A chopstick rolls onto the ground, but Leon doesn't move or waver in his vision towards me.

 

"My dad will kill you, you can't!"

 

"SH! He will if he hears you bleating about it!" I knew this was a bad idea, Leon tends to worry about me too much for my own safety. "Keep it down, even if we're the only ones on the patio."

 

He crawls into a whisper. "Emil, it's suicidal! You're one of his best rookies! He's expecting a lot out of you, I even overheard him giving you a special O-star directive via the Alpha platoon commander!"

 

"What the fuck!? I don't want anything to do with them, they're a bunch of Honeyfun smokers who do anything that interests them, rape or not! They scare the shit out of me -- one tried to get me in bed with him and I kicked his ass in combat training the same day. Please, Leon, don't fucking scare me like that."

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I notice a camera. "Does our stereo have sound, Leon?"

 

"What? Of course it does, I checked it this morning before I left our room."

 

I bend down to pick up his chopstick. The idea sparks in his eyes and he reaches for it at the same time.

 

"Leon, this place is watched. Let's meet up later."

 

* * *

 

I never did. The Alpha platoon commander, one of the many guys Berwald did in earlier on the parking platform, came to get me right after lunch, handing me a notice.

 

I remember reading the brief with sinking aspiration. It was the mission statement for capturing the Winter Sniper, who ironically sat less than a sprint away from me (alive and well). In the end, you could theoretically say that Tino, the criminal, was the catalyst for my separation from my only friend, Leon.

 

Well, life is bullshit sometimes. I didn't know it then, but it was going to throw me another bone. I was going to make new friends really quickly.

 

XXX


	7. Remember, Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter explores Lukas' perception of the world, as well as his first 'true' encounter with someone in the group. :)

 

 

Tino and his snoring, those are the first things I sense when awaking. I keep my eyes closed, sniff the air. Another unfamiliar place.

 

Fun.

 

But, I don't know where I learned that reaction from.

 

I hear the rumbles of Berwald too. He is close, somewhere. Something isn't right.

 

I sniff. There are blankets, but they're too soft. I'm being tickled by clouds, except they rightfully aren't clouds. Soft. I can't go back to sleep. So, I instead tunnel silently away from Tino and Berwald, who are on either side of me.

 

As I hit the floor clumsily, I become, then, aware that my hair is wet. Did I fall into water between the crash and now? Did we all crash into water?

 

I cease my breathing as Tino snorts. He burrows into Berwald's chest.

 

I barely sigh, content at the display.

 

The room, with the narrow window shining orange light across the bed and floor, seems too cluttered and personally decorated to be a hologram. The carpet feels alien to my bare feet.

 

I also notice that I am not wearing my laboratory tunic. I have on strange pants that are scratchy and the color of cloudy sky, with little white ropes jutting out from around my waist. What is their purpose?

 

I sit on the floor quietly and pull taut one rope. My midsection suddenly feels too constricted, and I nearly cry out in surprise. I pull on the other rope, thinking it would loosen, but it makes the sensation worse.

 

The only thing that seems to work is lying down on the ground and relaxing my belly.

 

Then I sit back up. The pants suddenly feel loose again. Satisfactory.

 

A cold hits my bare shoulders immediately. I hear a distant whirring noise and reflexively tackle myself down, bracing for a punishing blow, closing my eyes. Nothing happens. My elbows burn from the abrasive carpet.

 

I reopen my eyes. I spy a vent on the ceiling, which seems to be the source of the cold air that I felt. I cautiously raise up, eyeing the aperture suspiciously as I make my way around the room to the open door.

 

The next room has a half-circle with two strangers sleeping on it.

 

Both are sleeping peacefully. No danger. More orange light is shining through from outside the window. The light hints at another room behind another door, with tiles similar to the ones in the laboratory, being stark white.

 

I open the door wider and expect scientists to come to me at any moment, but I instead discover what appears to be a closed place, with a toilet. There is some kind of wall-height box with bottles across the room, with a metal protrusion near the ceiling, barely in arm's reach.

 

Liquid drips from it.

 

Plip. Plip. My hand catches it in the darkness. I sniff it. Odorless.

 

Water, perhaps. I taste it. It is tasteless. Or am I tasteless in thinking it is tasteless? Maybe I have lost the ability to taste?

 

I prick blood from my thumb with my teeth and taste it. No, I have not lost taste after all. The familiarity of iron is reassuring, somehow.

 

Water. Water.

 

...maybe this is why my hair is wet? I smell my locks. There is a faint foreign scent of some kind, something fake and artificial. I peer at the bottles suspiciously, looking at the pictures on them. Cartoonish faces peer out back at me, some on what are presumably inanimate objects.

 

One is a fruit.

 

I curl my fingers around the bottle slowly, knees bending on instinct, ready to run. There's something not quite right about the bottle. Fingers pressed against the lid, my heart races...

 

Pop!

 

I flinch, dropping the bottle onto the shelf in surprise. There is a sudden panic as my hands desperately and successfully keep the rest of the shelf's contents from falling on the hard floor, from echoing out to the sleeping denizens of the other rooms.

 

In an instant, the same odor I found in my hair has pervaded the box. As it begins to overwhelm me, I quickly snap the lid shut and briskly hop out of the smell's reach, back into the dim orange light of the main room's window.

 

My eyes wander in the shadows, legs creeping over to the table by the half-circle and perching beside it. I shake in the aftermath of the scented shock, mind reeling from the mysteriously sweet aroma. My brain finally registers the sleeping people in front of me.

 

I remember. The drunk driver was loud and boisterous and energetic. The meek boy seemed like a baby brother. Both have bruises. The crash.

 

I peer at them both through half-lidded eyes. I was once taught a word for this feeling. Cuteness. They are cuteness. They have cuteness.

 

But then I am confused. I sit on the carpet again to think, lightly fingering the ropes of these strange pants and wondering also about my wet smelly hair.

 

They cannot both be cute. They do not make me feel the same way. One makes me feel what I feel with Tino and Berwald, but the other is foreign, strange, and suffocating. The space between myself and this strange man with spiky hair is gravitational, as if I need to grow close to receive my treat.

 

But I try to resist. It seems too much like a concoction of the scientists. This room could easily be part of a hologram on its own. The man looks far too artificial for them to fool me. He looks very strong, and very happy, not realistic for life. He is the polar opposite of me, then.

 

Against my mind's callings, by a strange force I don't understand, I shift closer to this strange man. I feel my breath faintly ghosting off of his skin, my fingers grasping the leathery material of the structure above us. Some kind of soft square is cushioning his head. He is covered by a blanket, but is also bare-shouldered like me.

 

Not polar opposites. I'm close enough to see the lacerations on his shoulders, his tanned cheeks.

 

He stirs. I quickly shift away, hiding behind the other side of the leathery half-circle.

 

"Is someone there?" He murmurs.

 

My breathing is heavy. I recognize that Tino and Berwald trust this man in some way, but I am still becoming anxious. Why?

 

The man sits up, he seems not used to the darkness. "It's okay, reveal yerself. I'm just gonna turn ya back out."

 

I submit, backing slowly into the casted light. I gaze up at him coyly, trying to predict his next move without giving away mine. My hair hangs ragged in my eyes.

 

He gasps lightly in recognition, whispering. "Oh, it's Lukas! I'm not gonna turn ya out after all! I promise." His broad palms grasp at his blanket and soft square, and he walks over next to me.

 

What does that mean, I wonder? Turning out? I cautiously shuffle further away, until my back finds itself against the wall. He sits on the floor where he stopped. "Yer kinda shy, ain'tcha?"

 

I stare at him woefully. Those words were the same that the black-haired woman at the lab said, before she turned on me too and went on the cruel whims of the Director. Is it possible that this is a simulation, after all?

 

I am hesitant. So, I don't respond to that remark.

 

He curls the blanket around his shoulders like a cowl. "Are ya cold? I have blankets if ya'd like."

 

I shake my head no.

 

He shrugs. "'Kay then." And then sits and stares at me more.

 

I relax only slightly and sit my full weight on the ground once more. His eyes, the color of unpolluted sky, look at me with a strange expression.

 

I cock my head to the left.

 

He takes that as an expression of curiosity, which is what I intended. "I'm just wonderin'. Ya look exactly like someone I've seen before. I called her 'Ice Queen'."

 

Ice Queen? Why would anyone want to be a ruler of ice? Ice is desolate, people cannot live on it, so there would be no need for a ruler. This man is moronic.

 

My gaze shifts into one of scrutiny. He lets out a spasming sort of laugh under his breath. "Ngh, you ain't gotta judge me fer it, I get that I can be kinda silly sometimes."

 

The smile suddenly flees from his face. I sense a feeling of pain as his hand rushes to his stomach. "...Fuck. That crash really messed me up." His eyebrows stay screwed, but he manages to open his eyes again after a few breaths. "Are ya okay, at least?"

 

I stare at his bruises and cuts, taking a long while to answer. When I do, it is with a curt nod.

 

He tilts his head and smiles, but it is not a free smile, it is caged by mortality. Perhaps the prospect of illness and death makes smiles precious? Is this the cuteness I perceived earlier? Is it because of vulnerability?

 

My rumination is suddenly interrupted. "Sorry, I never introduced ma'self."

 

He gets up stoutly and shoves a hand in my face, and I shrink away immediately. "I'm Mathias! Mat, fer shortsies!" His face twists farther into a smile, a different kind which makes me feel a little more comforted.

 

I look at his hand curiously, wondering exactly what I am supposed to do with it. I sniff it, look closely at the knuckles and calloused skin.

 

Mathias sits down in front of me again, still holding his hand out, his brow twitches once. I don't like the situation I'm in, so I choose to communicate discomfort, and I nip his thumb.

 

"Ow!" He startles away. "Wha' was that fer?"

 

I grunt and slide away behind one of the oddly shaped high chairs. I refuse to speak unless this man shows me he won't hurt me. So, I stare coldly at him.

 

"Okay, ya didn't understand. Yer supposed ta shake it, like this!" He takes his other hand, holding it and the other together and shaking them vigorously. "It's a greetin'."

 

I look at my own hands, repeating the same action Mathias did. It is strange. I cock my head.

 

"Ya do that ta another person!" He smiles again, holding out his hand once more.

 

I reach out my left hand to him around one of the chairs.

 

"Uh, other hand."

 

I wonder what this ridiculous specificity is about, this man is certainly moronic. I extend my right hand and rest my left on my leg.

 

Mathias gently places his fingers over the edge of my palm and gives a surprisingly minimal shake. His hand is very warm and cozy to touch. Slowly, he brings his palm away down my hand. "Yer hand is really cold, whoa..."

 

In an instant, without warning, I grab his hand with both of mine.

 

"What're y--"

 

I shake his arm vigorously, like he showed me, until my wrists start to ache. Then I let go and watch.

 

He seems confused and his face grimaces, but then he burps and laughs a little less quietly. Now I am confused.

 

"Wow, ya shook tha gas outta me! Nice one!" His smile is even wider.

 

I frown. I shook 'the gas' out of him? That makes barely any sense. I simply did what I was shown.

 

He goes back to silence, grabbing his soft square from behind him. I look at it curiously, shifting myself closer again, leaving the shelter of the strange high chairs.

 

"This is a pillow. It's super soft an' comfy! See?" Mathias presses into the pillow violently with both of his wide palms, collapsing the object. Then it returns to its original state, though slowly. He puts the pillow on the floor in front of me.

 

My body betrays me and shivers. I am not cold. This temperature does not bother me mentally, and yet the body disobeys.

 

Mathias sees me shivering, and lifts one side of the blanket on his shoulders.

 

I look at it, it's not large enough for his body dimensions, let alone mine. I don't understand want he wants.

 

He frowns in confusion, but then gets up and goes into the bedroom. I take this time to wipe my hand on the roughness of the carpet, in case Mathias' hands had some hidden poison on them. I am still suspicious of him, even if he emits a seemingly genuine smile. He seems far too enticing for a normal human, as if he were designed to perfection by programmers.

 

My body still shivers.

 

Mathias returns soon, his feet padding quietly through both darkness and light, until he reaches me again. His biceps cradle a chaotic mass of blankets that are all various shades of red, some with white stripes, and some with simple decorations. He throws the pile on the carpet with a grunt, sitting just as ungracefully.

 

"Welp, here ya go! This is ma entire stock!" He wraps himself deeper into the blanket on his shoulders, grinning.

 

I look through the blankets hesitantly, infrequently taking an occasional glance at Mathias to see if this was a trick of some kind. He never falters in his gaze, intently watching me like the experiment I am.

 

All of these blankets are too soft, just like the ones on Tino and Berwald in the other room. This man lives in such luxury, so why would he feel the desire to be consumed by alcohol?

 

Red, white, red, white, red, that's all there is.

 

Wait, I pause. This one is different. It has a blue patch in the midst of red, the only color besides red and white.

 

I pick it because it is like me, different.

 

Mathias smiles wide and brightly, showing off decent teeth with one molar missing. His eyebrow twitches again and I feel that strange "cuteness" again. His broad yet cut hands deftly sort through the pile, layering the blankets like a stack of paper. He lays a couple of smaller pieces, including the so-called 'pillow' near one end of the blanket.

 

The biggest blanket, which is easily the size of the window, he decides to lay on top, rolling it over on the pillow end. Why is he making a bed on the floor? Does he intend to sleep on it?

 

My question seems sooner answered than asked, for Mathias is already laying himself down under it. As he spreads his height along the floor and stretches, I get an immediate indication of his span, for his toes touch the window and his hair pokes under the leather half-circle. He is reasonably a hand's length shy of 2 meters.

 

This body length is quickly recoiled, though, and eventually the man settles under the blankets in some variety of foetal shape. He looks up at me with a contented smile. "Wanna join?" Blinks twice. Pats the pillow once.

 

I remember that he is the same one that suggested I was a psychopath. I don't trust him, though he may speak a truth.

 

No, I think. I am not a psychopath. Yes, I also think. Many people think it, so it must be so.

 

Either way, if he insults me or if I am truly dangerous, I cannot be so near to him. It is simply bad for both of us in general. Why should I risk him when he is ignorant of my dangers?

 

I clutch the blanket I have taken, smelling the fabric to ignore Mathias' imploring gaze. He begins to intimidate me, I don't understand what it is he wants.

 

His smile fades back into that expression of curiosity again, sky colored eyes seeming to bore a hole through the blanket I place in front of my face. "Are ya scared or somethin'?"

 

I show him the truth and nod, shutting my eyes back into darkness. He hums quietly. Then his voice adopts a more reserved tone, as if he is afraid to speak. "Am... am I scarin' ya?"

 

I don't move. I think about his question carefully. Then I shake my head no. Truthfully, I am not as bothered by his remarks about me as I am about my perception of myself.

 

I remember the flashbacks. I know I killed people and disobeyed at the laboratory. I remember the disgusting sweet red on the floor. The same hue of this man's blankets, how can that be? The blood of both seeps into my mind, won't leave me alone, won't let me have peace. Guilt.

 

I curl farther into myself, seeking dissociative respite. I dimly hear a shuffling.

 

My body flinches as a warmth surrounds me, fluffy and soft. Mathias is placing another blanket around me where I sit on the floor, his face is close to mine because I can feel his breath on my forehead.

 

When he speaks again, he sounds very near, and it is in whisper. "'s that better? ...Lukas?"

 

Do I dare to open my eyes upwards and see his brightness of a gaze again? I feel so warm and comfortable, blanket around me, in my lap, over my feet and my hands, face buried inwards, maybe I don't have to respond to Mathias.

 

Maybe I don't have to respond to anything. I can simply dissociate. Maybe I can just fall back asleep and avoid this ridiculous feeling I feel.

 

I don't know how long I stay sitting there for. Time seems to go now. I feel an increase in the temperature of the air around me outside the blankets. Eternity drags on, on, on...

 

And then I hear Mathias' quiet voice echoing somewhere. "Oh shit, it's already seven.... better make breakfas'."

 

There's the mouthwatering smells of meat, then, delicious and melting. What is that food? There's the sizzle of flesh.

 

Humming. Mathias is humming, there's the clank of metal on metal.

 

Grunting and grumbling.... "What the fuck is that noise?" The meek boy waking up.

 

Song from Mathias, gentle, rising with the smell. "Here comes tha sun... doo doo doo..."

 

Oh, it's morning, then. He's singing about the sun...

 

"Here comes tha sun, and I say...."

 

I finally lay myself over onto the floor, wrapped in my blanket with the blue amidst the red showing up in my mind's eye. Tired again. Drained... but not emotionally. Not like normal.

 

"...it's all right."

 

XXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Speculation Game in the comments:  
> How does Mathias know that Beatles song? (I already have my reasons, but I'm curious to see what you all think.)  
> (Hope this chapter was enjoyable, by the way.) :3


	8. A Fault Worth Mentioning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurrah for gradual world-building.

 

 

_Crack. Craack._

 

My fingers flexed on the counter next to the cutting board and cobium tongs, neck popping with the epitome of all things athritic. "Oof, 'm I sore..."

 

The smell and sizzle of bacon wafted through the air, a luxury that I was more than willing to treat my guests to for breakfast. I had planned to not tell them about how expensive it was... they really didn't need the burden, ya know?

 

Besides, there was an impossible amount of joy that flooded through me. After what seemed like an endless hell that night, I was glad for what I had woken up to.

 

My eyes looked up from the bacon, head slowly turning to watch the sleeper on the floor behind my couch. The morning sun caught itself in his hair, playing with sparkles and messing with the photons in the air.

 

While I stole glances back at the skillet to make sure the bacon didn't turn into cancer, I thought about how strange Lukas was. He reacted so timidly to meeting me for the first time, and it really made me self-conscious about my personality for once. I didn't think that I was capable of intimidating someone with my loud personality... but there ya go! I had startled Lukas, sure enough.

 

But.... there was something other than timidness he was giving off. Something that made me want to keep interacting with him, to find out who he was and what really happened to him to mess him up so badly, with those experiments.

 

I think he was being playful with me.

 

I leaned against the counter and gazed at his thin sleeping figure, his face hidden into a mass of blankets. A sigh escaped my nose inaudibly. I blinked away some dust that fell under my eyelashes.

 

That moment was something peaceful.

 

Until that kid, Emil, spoke up quietly from the couch. Forgot he was awake.

 

"You're a creep."

 

"Ya think?" I turned to him and smiled. "Kinda rude ta say that ta yer host... but it's tha truth, so I'll let it slide."

 

That caught him off guard. He looked sourly at me and scrunched his nose up, arms resting on the back of the couch. Looked across the room at me with a withering stare. "Why?"

 

"Why'm I a creep?" I returned to my maintenance of the bacon, flipping it over with the tongs (a present from Al I received earlier in the week, what a damn good friend he is).

 

"Yeah. Why do you say that?"

 

I tapped the butt of the tongs to my forehead, trying to clear my thoughts. I knew I wasn't any good at explaining my thoughts to other people, so I tried to keep it simple for this kid.

 

"I kinda have a track history o' bad relationships. And a bad history o' rebounds. I think that's 'nough ta say I'm creepy, right?" I flashed a small smile.

 

Emil gave a different look at me, raising his eyebrows slightly. I couldn't tell if he was amused or what.

 

We stayed like that for a while, him staring at me staring at the skillet. The skillet didn't stare at anything, but it did start to make me real hungry with the way the bacon smelled.

 

Then Emil spoke up again, trying to adopt an assertive tone. "What's the plan of action? For not getting caught by the police?"

 

I chuckled at his eagerness. "Don't worry 'bout it. We can all talk together, 's not fair if you an' I decide everythin'." Smirking, my fingers drummed at the counter-top.

 

He huffed and flopped back onto the couch. "Whatever. You don't really have a plan." He coughed harshly, tone changing drastically. "My fucking lungs are killing me, what the hell do you have in here?"

 

I look up just in time to see Emil throw his blanket across the room. "What're ya doin'?"

 

"Something in that blanket was trying to give me an allergic reaction, so I made it react to me instead."

 

My hand clapped over my blubbering mouth, fighting back a roar of a laugh. A snicker escaped through my fingers, wafting through the slightly dusty morning air.

 

Emil snapped to face me bitterly, a frown turning itself between his cheeks. "How is that even funny?"

 

"I don' know, but I'm dyin' o' laughter now....!" I doubled over on the counter-top, faking a slide down the side. "Ya might need ta catch an ambulance, I might be gone soon...!"

 

"Ugh." Emil sighed and stood up from his reclined position on the leather, moving across the room to retrieve the projected fabric. When he had picked it up, he stopped in front of the bathroom door, looking in.

 

"What is it?" I remembered to fish out the bacon onto a plate before it burned, dropping the tongs semi-noisily to go stand by the pipsqueak.

 

"It wasn't the blanket. There's something really strong coming from in here." Emil sniffed and coughed violently again. "Shit, I gotta go sit down again."

 

I wondered what he could be talking about, until I smelled one of my shampoos. That must be the smell. "Hey, that thing yer smellin' is one of ma soaps!" I whispered back to him. He whipped around and gave me another withering stare.

 

"Still doesn't answer why I'm picking it up all the way over here, dumbass."

 

"'Kay, 'kay, geez. I'll figure it out, gimme a sec." I went in and took a look around, flicking the fluorescent mirror light on. I immediately noticed that the bottles in the shower were disheveled -- some were on their sides ready to fall off the shelf. Sure enough, there was one of the shampoo bottles open, lazily pouring out onto the floor without a care in the world.

 

I sat it back up, checking the leftovers. There was barely any left. I sighed, surrounded by (what I thought was) the comforting scent of Old Earth pineapple. My eyes stole a glance back at Emil, who had migrated to sit on one of the bar stools near the vent in the living room. The connection suddenly crossed my mind.

 

My feet padded from tile to carpet. "Hey, are ya allergic ta pineapple?"

 

The albino looked back at me wearisomely. "How the fuck should I know?"

 

I shrugged. "Maybe 'cause tha shampoo that somehow spilled in ma shower was pineapple scented, and it looks like it's been spillin' fer a while, and tha smell probably got into tha ventilation?"

 

Emil smirked. "So who spilled it?"

 

I scratched my head. "Probably me, I was tha last one ta take a shower last night. Sorry 'bout that."

 

Emil stared at me and grunted a weak form of apathetic forgiveness, before going and flopping on the couch again without any grace. "Wake me when breakfast is up."

 

"Ya, sure."

 

Before I started on making the omelettes next, I paced the room for a few moments and thought hard.

 

Something must have happened to spill the shampoo, because I sure as hell have a precise way of doing things when it comes to taking my showers. Someone was tampering with it.

 

In my wanderings, I stopped by the window and looked out at the cars whizzing by through the air. Blacks and blues, reds, silvers, all colors imaginable sped through the morning light, conducting a symphonic display of blinding brilliance. The sun had risen some ways above the skyscrapers, beginning to illuminate the ill-kept canals that drained sludge near the bottom of everything imaginable, from the bottom of everything imaginable.

 

My hand had unconsciously reached up to play with a strand of my hair, and that was when I had an idea.

 

Emil was right when he said I didn't have any clues about getting us all off world.

 

But that was then, minutes ago. Now I thought 'we can do this, this wasn't all a mistake'. There must have been some reason we were all brought together; by chance alone seems to good to be true.

 

I went and got my personal comm, stealing a glance at Lukas as I walked past him.

 

* * *

 

_Knock. Knock knock._

 

My calloused knuckles rapped at the open bedroom door, pushing it fully wide. I rapped them again.

 

Tino shot up from full slumber, locking my eyes with a crazed sort of sleepless expression. He groaned and weightedly slapped the red sheets. "Oh fuck, it's just you. Let me sleep more, you crazy asshole."

 

I grinned in humor. "Ya can call me an asshole, but I made breakfas' fer all ya guys."

 

Tino snorted derisively. He placed an elbow on Berwald's shoulder and nudged him. "Berwald, hey hey, rise and shine."

 

The bear emitted a low drawn-out growl before also sitting up. He blinked once, twice. Grunted.

 

Tino turned his face back to me. Instantly, his languid gaze turned lucid. He shot out of bed, hitting the nightstand next to him rather clumsily (for an apparently master criminal). "Oh fuck, shit, ow, where the hell is Lukas!?" As if to punctuate the panic, the alarm clock I had sitting on the stand rattled and thumped against the wall, then the carpet.

 

I blocked the door with my frame. "Shhh! He's sleeping on the floor in here!"

 

The sniper looked up at me with a mistrustful gaze. "And he's in there why?"

 

"Dunno, I woke up 'bout four-thirty and he was skulkin' 'round tha place." I scratched my chin. "He almost scared tha shit outta me, thought maybe someone broke in."

 

Tino cracked his knuckles loudly. "Yeah, likely story. What did you make?"

 

"Omelettes with bacon. I'm guessin' ya guys found ma clothes ta be alright?"

 

Berwald grunted again. Couldn't tell if that was approval or not. I noticed that he looked to fit my clothes sizes rather snugly -- his body type must be about the same.

 

Then I remembered Lukas the night before, and how before everyone showered and went to bed Tino had insisted we NOT try to put a shirt on Lukas. I worried that we would never find anything to fit him, but we found sweatpants luckily enough. After Tino had cleaned Lukas up in the shower, he had said the pants would be foreign enough to scare the poor guy; a shirt on top of that would cause too much chaos.

 

Then there was Emil. He cherry-picked the most comfortable clothes outta my closet, insisting that he couldn't sleep without having pajamas of certain materials. Personally, I think he was just being bratty, but I wanted to be nice. It's not like he was stealing them or anything, besides.

 

Then... Tino. That was an awkward experience of itself. I don't even want to think about that. Some other time.

 

"You got something on your mind, drunk?" The sniper's accent had crept out again, both edgy and strange. He stood with his hands akimbo, gazing me down like a Beta Mygisan on the hunt. "Eh!?"

 

I habitually put on a grin, saying simply: "Just hungry." Which was the truth, 'cause of the bacon and omelettes waiting on the counter.

 

Tino snorted. I looked at him, then at Berwald as he took his own pace getting out of bed. The big guy still winced from all his injuries yesterday, I guessed. "The crash really messed you up, Berwald."

 

He stopped moving for a moment, as if battling to maintain his composure. When he stood, his knees popped rather painfully-sounding, and he leaned against the closet doors to keep standing. "Not th' crash."

 

Tino leaped over to him and took one arm around his shoulder. "Lean on me, 'kay?" There was a genuine smile shared between the two of them, so I dropped the conversation. I turned and made up to set breakfast out on the counter.

 

My steps thumped in time with the wonders that crossed my mind, my train of thought.

 

If it wasn't the crash that messed Berwald up so badly, then what did?

 

Why is Lukas so skittish towards me?

 

Why is Emil such a little shi-- a rude kid?

 

Who messed with my pineapple shampoo?

 

There were too many damn questions to focus on right now. My hand slipped and an omelette fell on the floor. Shit.

 

I hastily scooped it back up onto a plate and made that my omelette, not wanting to be a douche to anyone. I hoped that no one saw that fuck-up, much less misunderstand my intentions.

 

Tino and Berwald padded into the living room, and there was the snag of someone pulling a bar stool out from the counter, like a comb through hair. The grunt that followed made me think it was Berwald. "Shhhh, Lukas is sleeping, Ber." I heard Tino whisper that.

 

I turned to the fridge, fishing through the contents for what felt like long minutes, before deciding on getting some orange-flavored drink out. The label was faded, but I knew it was still good, what with the amount of preservatives it probably had. Nutritional content is a scary thing to think about.

 

Whisking out some forks from the drawer by the stove, I finally got around to setting the omelette plates on the island counter. I barely remembered to keep the one that fell on the floor to myself.

 

Emil, I think he went to the bathroom, since that door was closed and he was nowhere to be found. Someone had turned on my Wide Display to the news, guessing it was Tino since he was on the couch. He intently stared into the screen, reading all the headlines.

 

The news reporter was rambling off nonsensical stories from the Midnight Festival going on this week. In the middle of her pleasant smiles and (attractive) demeanor, I felt a pang of disappointment when Tino abruptly muted the sound with the controller. He turned to both Berwald and I with a solemn look.

 

"This whole festival is a joke. A big. Fucking. Joke."

 

Berwald locked his eyes on the sniper. I sensed that the conversation was about to get real, and took my own seat at the counter next to the bear.

 

"Do you know what the festival celebrates? Corporation. The end of a successful economic cycle. This city never hosts the festival when the economy is crashing."

 

But that made no sense. "I thought tha' origin of tha festival was from tha winter eclipse?" I spoke slowly, chewing egg in my mouth. Swallowing. "Tha celebrations stem from older times, I thought."

 

Berwald looked confusedly at both of us. I wonder if he knew anything from the outside world at all. "What's th' M'dnight F'stival?"

 

I nudged some bacon with my fork, distastefully noticing a piece of hair from where I dropped the omelette earlier. "Every winter, when tha two moons of this planet cross paths in tha sky, there's an eclipse -- tha locals here call tha moons "Bjavanie" and "Nerija", by tha way, apparently they're named fer old gods o' commerce or somethin'. Anyways, tha city sets up festival grounds between here, in tha Park District, an' tha police complex."

 

Tino snorted again. "That's what they, the higher-ups, want you to believe."

 

Berwald gave me a withering stare. "Y' mean this isn't Earth?"

 

I stared at him in shock. "Obviously?"

 

Tino got up from the couch, ignoring a news story about some cross-dresser kissing people randomly on the streets. He mutely went to Berwald, hugging him where he sat in confusion. After some heavy moments, he whispered. "I'm sorry, Berwald. We're not, anymore. They took us away from our home."

 

I felt a pang of melancholy for them, even though I understood nothing about what was going on. "What really happened ta ya guys?"

 

Tino turned to look at me. His face crumpled into a rather baleful frown. "Berwald and I aren't from this planet. We were raised on Earth... you guys here on Denber call it Old Earth. We... were taken right after our engagement...and..." He began to choke back tears.

 

Berwald set his fork and knife down gently, wrapping his arms care-takingly around Tino's frame. "Y' don't h'fta tell 'm."

 

"I know, Ber, but he deserves to know what's going on, even if I do hate him for being insensitive to Lukas."

 

I felt like a knife had been twisted into me at that remark. It suddenly became quite clear to me why Lukas didn't seem to like me so much. "Oh." It was all I could stand to utter in response.

 

The piece of hair in my omelette seemed to adamantly remind me of its presence. I lost my appetite quite suddenly, the yellow fridge to my left becoming a repulsive color to look at.

 

Tino wiped his eyes. "Ber and I were about to be married when the raids on Old Earth began. Lukas was going to be my best man." He stared wistfully at the window, then at his cousin sleeping in blissful ignorance on the floor. "He was such a different person before they did those horrible things to him. Still quiet, but wasn't afraid to interact with the world."

 

My heart weighed downwards with a great sadness; the way Tino spoke made it sound like an era long-gone, like a fairy-tale stuck randomly in a history book. My mouth opened to speak, but then I decided to keep it shut out of respect. I would have probably said something insensitive.... anyway.

 

The bathroom door opened and Emil came out. "You're out of toilet paper, you --"

 

He stopped and looked at all of us. "Who killed the mood in here? Shit! Feels like a funeral!" He walked over to a fixed plate on the counter and reached to pick it up.

 

To my surprise, it was Berwald who grabbed Emil's arm, rather roughly too, dragging him close to make direct eye-contact with him.

 

The two stared at each other, the albino with a pissed expression and the bear with the scariest mug I've ever seen in my life.

 

Berwald's voice came out as a low drawl. "Don't y' dare t'lk like that. 's disr'spectf'l."

 

Emil huffed. "Yeah, yeah, I get the idea. Let me have some food now, I haven't eaten in almost 12 hours." When Berwald let go, he quickly grabbed the plate and walked away towards the bedroom, hastily.

 

"Ya forgot a fork!" I called after him, honestly concerned about why he was making to eat in my bedroom.

 

He turned and stared at me wildly. "One of you assholes can throw it to me, then."

 

Tino snapped. In the blink of an eye, he had thrown a fork clear across the room, launching it into the door next to Emil prongs first. "Did you not hear what Berwald said, or do I need to spell it out for you?!"

 

Just as quickly as Tino had projected the fork, Emil tore the utensil out of the door and had vanished into my room, with the distinct click of the lock resonating in the silent aftermath.

 

Guess he didn't want to talk about a plan after all. Or maybe Tino spooked him something bad.

 

It was an uncomfortable silence. Tino and Berwald and I, all sitting and attempting to eat what were now cold omelettes... with bacon. And the news playing, muted in the background.

 

I could hear the traffic outside...it was so quiet.

 

I had just taken the third bite of my omelette, edging around the cursed piece of hair, when a news flash caught my eye.

 

With a loud pang from the fork crashing against the plate, I leaped up from my stool and dived for the controller on the couch. The leather squeaked in protest, holding me like I was the body of a giant.

 

Soon enough, the Wide Display was unmuted, ringing out the report.

 

_" -- had a clue about what was going to happen, I would've been down here sooner!"_

 

_\-- "What's the story? From what we understand, there's been an explosion of some kind?"_

 

In an instant, I felt the weight of Berwald sitting down on the couch next to me, his attention also trained on the screen.

 

_"Precisely, I haven't got a rep from the company down here yet, but it seems like there's been some severe damage done to the infrastructure of the complex. I've been informed that several hundred workers are presumed to be dead or trapped in the tunnels, with two main tunnels being completely collapsed from the main explosion or aftershocks."_

 

Berwald's mouth gaped open.

 

"Th' mines."

 

XXX


	9. Closing the Distance

 

 

I couldn't believe what I was seeing, couldn't even believe my own hearing.

 

Somehow, in some way, fate had pulled through for me once in reunion with Tino, and now it was doing me another favor with the destruction of the mines...

 

My entire being felt like it was capable of running the whole length of the planet over, so happy as I was. I had no place that I belonged to anymore except home.

 

I felt the eyes of the drunk, Mathias, on me, as he seemed to scan my face for my reaction to this. But... I ignored him. I gave him the benefit of the doubt, maybe even a point or two for being there as a complete stranger for my family.

 

I muted the device broadcasting the news in both strange languages and familiar ones, leaning back on the leather sofa. "M' God."

 

After a breath of silence, Tino shuffled over, and he leaned his small yet built frame on mine. His voice came up hesitant, but considerate. "You think they'll be distracted by this, Ber? Maybe they won't look for us while this is going on."

 

He's always good with quickly making plans, my love of my life. He seems to know when the perfect time to strike is.

 

Maybe that's why he survived as a cold-blooded criminal.

 

* * *

 

With my time in the mines, though I rarely saw the sky, I was given food and shelter, and I was so close to forgetting where it was I came from. Earth that I knew. The smell of pines and fresh unpolluted air.

 

There, among the crystals and dirt, deep in the tunnels and sheltered inside the barbed wire of the fence surrounding the complex, I had learned both to fend for myself and also make cautious friendship. Friends that were there as a coalition, more than a labor union, but not enough to certainly save each of us individually. It was for the sake of weight, and importance.

 

When it came down to it, there were only five specific people, people who I truly cared about, back then, who I had the energy for under strain of physical exertion:

 

Tino is an obvious one. He was able to escape right as we left the transports on this godforsaken alien planet, this place that the more I see of the more I want to destroy everything it stands for. My love for him never faded. Never. Even if he didn't warn me ahead of time about trying to escape. Even if I had no contact with him for what felt like four long years.

 

Lukas is also an obvious one, since Tino cares about him so much. I made myself a promise to protect Lukas in Tino's absence, I tried my best to shelter him from all sorts of terrifying things we encountered, there in the camp. When the more brutish workers tried to gang up on Lukas because of his feminine figure... that was my first offence against the overseer. That was the first time I ever killed a person. We lived for each other, Lukas and I, until he was called to the medical tent one cold winter day, and then....

 

Then... well, I don't know if I'll ever see that Lukas ever again.

 

Besides my family, there were three others I cared about. Two brothers, and their closest friend.

 

The elder of the brothers was a guy named Toris, not scrawny and not built, about average in appearance. He and his younger brother, Raivis, came on a transport sometime after my family. They never once turned cruel, despite all the hostility shown towards them for being weaker in physical strength. I remember helping them out on multiple occasions... at first because it was what Tino would have wanted, and then because I gradually came to see them as being of the only friends I had in that stygian place.

 

The other friend, Eduard, was a very distant relative of Tino's, who I remember was invited to the wedding... the wedding that never happened.

 

He also made quick friends with Raivis and Toris, though he was able to get closer... probably because I was scary-looking. Eduard never did physical work, since he was selected to be the primary messenger of the overseer. He delivered plans for new machines, communicated between the workers and the overseer, and tasks similar. It seemed like a cushiony role at first, but Eduard told me later that he was on the brunt end of much ire... he showed me the bruises and I couldn't do much but have understanding in what he was saying. We ended up bonding over our physical abuse.

 

* * *

 

It was then, upon seeing the destruction of the mines, feeling Tino's presence beside me on the couch, that I wondered if Toris and Raivis, and Eduard... if they were somehow still alive. Despite this maelstrom. The chaos.

 

I hoped they were, for they didn't deserve such an ugly end.

 

There was a sudden musical tone that sounded throughout the sunlit living room -- something I recognized from Earth. "Don't. Stop. Me. Now!" Legendary voices from the annals of history.

 

Quickly, I saw Mathias fish out a communicator from his pocket, flipping open the sleek device with muscled grace... ending the sweet memory that registered in me.

 

"'Sup Gil?" He smiled broadly. "Ya ya, just saw it, whatcha think? ... Ya. Thinkin' 'bout tha call I made earlier ta ya. ... Mm! ... M-hm! ... Think it's manageable? 'Cause there's no better time, I think."

 

Tino tapped my shoulder and I turned to him. "Are you okay?" He asked it with reverence.

 

I stared deeply into his earthen eyes, never once flinching, even if my heart felt restless with worry. Even if I was so physically strong and yet so uncertain about what was going to happen next. He seemed to read me more than I knew possible.

 

Mathias continued on in the background, words that I dimly processed. "Ya, that's ma concern too, if them bastards catch us. Ya think we should take Alfred with? Or would he say too much?"

 

Tino reached up a hand to my cheek. "Whatever happens... it won't be impossibly terrible. I can't promise a success, but you should know that I'm gonna try my best to get us through this mess. And... you are more than welcome to help me with it. It'll be a group effort."

 

I never thought, in all my days, that I would ever get this chance again.

 

I leaned my forehead, closed the space. What had seemed like eternity, was. It just simply was. It is no longer, no longer was I apart from this passion.

 

And so, I thought it fitting to indulge a little. I placed my lips on his nose, respectfully, tenderly. Waiting for him to make the move next.

 

Tino smiled brightly, as if he were somehow everything light inside my heart come to life, embodied into the form of a palpable human being. "Even after all these years, Ber... you're still the same gentle guy." My heart simply ached with that statement, so much truth was conveyed in so few words.

 

He hugged me tightly, head resting in the crook of my neck. I reached my hands up to cradle his shoulders, fingers barely brushing the sun-colored hair at the base of Tino's neck. After just a small moment of lull, I mumbled my thoughts to him. "Miss'd y'."

 

At that remark, his arms squeezed tighter, as if he were afraid to let me go again. "I know. Me too."

 

I heard Mathias get up from the couch, and then saw him wander into the kitchen area, pouring himself a glass of orange drink. "Ya! Alrigh', what time works best? ... Eh?! Yer gonna be here in 5 minutes?! What tha hell fer?!" His voice raised rapidly, drawing Tino's attention now, too. "Shit, hold on, I'll be down there in a sec!!!"

 

He ended the call just as quickly as he answered, shoving the device in his pocket again. The drink was chugged rapidly, some drops landing on Mathias' shirt as he dropped the plastic container in the sink. Grabbing his key-card from the table by the couch, he rushed to the door, shouting over his shoulder to us: "No worries, I'll be back!!"

 

The slam of the door resonated in another instance of odd silence.

 

Without further explanation, we had found ourselves without our host. I pulled back to look at Tino. "Y' need t' wake Lukas." He nodded in agreement. We both looked at the unfinished omelettes, and I wondered what we should do with them. Standing, I went over to my plate and tried my best to finish up the rest of my cold eggs, and Tino then did the same. In the silence, the chink of our plates in the sink was slightly unnerving.

 

It bothered me that Mathias left his plate unattended, but I did nothing with it.

 

While I leaned against the counter, I watched Tino crouch beside Lukas, behind the couch.

 

He slowly, carefully, touched Lukas' hand, which peeked out from underneath the massive comforter. "Lu. Hey. It's me, Tino, wake up."

 

It didn't take barely that, and Lukas woke up -- that, or he was already awake and was pretending to be asleep. He sat up, pulling the blankets off of him, stretching his wiry frame, grunting. He looked at Tino in curiosity.

 

"Mathias just went out for some reason, so we decided to wake you up. He didn't hurt you earlier, did he?" Tino rambled.

 

Lukas shook his head calmly, blinking the sunlight out of his dark irises. Slowly, he stood, one arm to steady himself on the back of the leather. I could see the outline of his ribs through his chest, a discomforting sight.

 

"Y' alr'ght?" I asked him. He nodded yes, giving me a look of consideration. Lukas ventured steadily over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder, simply making eye contact. I felt something strange in that movement, as if he was communicating directly without words or body language. I was comforted, somehow.

 

He seemed surprised as well, subtly. It was barely noticeable, just his eyes widening a mere fraction. His lips moved as if he were about to speak...

 

And then Lukas backed away suddenly, hiding behind Tino. The bedroom door opened, and Emil stepped through with an empty plate and fork. "Man, I sure do love cold food. Where did Mathias run off to?"

 

Tino scowled in the teenager's direction. "Just out and about. He has his reasons. Quit being rude."

 

That was a way of putting it nicely. If Tino wasn't relaxed from earlier, he might have been more harsh, even violent with his reaction. It was just the kind of person he was, even now, fiery in spirit.

 

Emil snorted, true to the rest of his presentation, going past all of us to the sink and dropping his plate and fork in. "What did I miss? I heard yelling."

 

I grunted in my reply. "Th' mines had 'n explos'n."

 

On his route to the couch, Emil whirled around, his face conveying both interest and concern. "Wait, what part?"

 

"Th' tunnels."

 

The emotion seemed to leave his face again, and the teenager sighed in a huff. "Damn, close but not quite."

 

Tino eyed him suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

 

"Nothing you need to know about." Emil was quick in his redirection, and even quicker in sitting down on the leather. "Man, I'm hungry again, what the hell..."

 

My fiance stared down the albino with a rather mighty scowl.

 

Maybe he learned it from me, all those years back.

 

Lukas shifted from being behind Tino to behind me, and he peeked around at the door, rapping my back with his knuckles. Whatever he picked up, Tino was on it too, and he then took up an empty wine bottle from the counter space near the fridge, going to stand beside the door.

 

I heard laughing voices in the hall, the sensation causing my muscles to tense with anxiety. None of those laughs sounded remotely like Mathias, I worried.

 

The seconds seemed to draw out in droves, Emil looking back and forth from Tino to I in confusion, Lukas leaning barely onto my spine and staring under my arm, Tino with his attention trained out, and me with one hand on a bar stool, ready to confront whoever was going to get in. A very bad feeling crept into my beaten bones again.

 

When the door cracked open, before I even saw their face, it was being knocked into a bottle by Tino. In that instance, the door was swung wide and the smell of laser fire erupted in the dusty air. I tackled myself to the ground, pulling Lukas with underneath. The bar stool landed on my leg painfully. I heard cries of rage coming from Tino, and the sounds of splintering glass as the bottle was swung again and finally demolished against a metallic-sounding substance.

 

"You bastards have shitty aim!"

 

In the next moment, I both felt and saw Emil join Lukas and I behind the sofa, white as a ghost. He whispered in a panic to Lukas and I. "We don't have any proper weapons to fight with! They're Chelonites!"

 

Chelonites? I looked at him in confusion. He sighed in exasperation. "Do you not even know about them?! They look like mutant turtles, gray, bipedal --" He jumped as a stray bullet ripped through the leather near his foot. "SHIT!"

 

It would have been a moot point to respond to Emil's remarks...

 

... so I chanced a glance around the curve of the sofa instead. Tino was amazingly holding his own against two strange-looking humans who were about my height. Both had some kind of kevlar vesting on, with beaks protruding from their skulls. Their eyes were narrow and dark, unmoving and beady. All their extremities were covered with thick scales that gleamed brightly in the sunlight, like metal sheets. I turned back to Emil.

 

He raised his voice over the sound of lasers going through the air. "It's a good thing they're dumb as rocks when it comes to aim, whoever hired these guys was a dumbass!"

 

"Y' mean they're not p'lice?!" I yelled back. Lukas had clasped his hands to his ears at this point, curling up into a ball.

 

"Hell no!! We don't use cheap kevlar like that!" Emil shouted, peeking over the back.

 

"PERKELE!! BERWALD, A LITTLE HELP!??!" I heard Tino cry out.

 

I immediately reached out for the bar stool, rising in a rush against the supposed 'Chelonites'. One had Tino in a hold of some kind, so I swung at the legs with the stool, with as much force as I could muster. The humanoid let out a scream, giving Tino enough leeway to wiggle out of the metallic arms restraining him. "Berwald! Aim for the soft spot on the bottom of their necks and back of the knees!" The love of my life wasted no time, wrestling the laser pistol from the Chelonite's hands.

 

I listened carefully, pummeling the jaw of one of the creatures with a clenched fist. Tino thoroughly body-checked the other alien into the door frame, pointing the pistol into the forehead and pulling the trigger. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw more figures rush up to us, humanoid. I turned my head to look in a mistake.

 

Tino screamed. "Berwald! BE CAREFUL!!" I was just able to block an arm, and at the end of that arm was a hand holding a knife. Having narrowly avoided certain death, I used my brute strength to twist the humanoid's arm out of its socket.

 

Then I heard the cries of Mathias. "Holy shit!! What tha hell happened?!" He shoved past Tino to lock the Chelonite into a choke-hold, arms rippling with hidden muscle.

 

There were also curses and exclamations from two more people that I wasn't familiar with, an albino with gangster-like clothing, and then a man with sunglasses and an antique bomber-style jacket.

 

Before I could process what had happened, Mathias and the stranger with the bomber jacket had the alien pinned to the ground, trying to restrain his hands. Mathias shouted over his shoulder: "Emil! Get somethin' ta hold this guy with!"

 

There would be something in Emil's police satchel, surely. "Emil! Th' s'tchel!" I croaked, turning to the sofa, where he peeked out. He scrambled to the bedroom in a daze, creating a ruckus in his fury to find. Without so much as two breaths of time, he whipped around the corner of the sofa, sliding on his knees to restrain the Chelonite with handcuffs, pressing a button as he went to change the size. There was a releasing click as the cuffs locked in place.

 

Mathias sat behind the alien and kept him pinned to the floor with his weight. "I leave fer only a short bit an' ma place is trashed, just ma luck...." The alien spat on Mathias' shoes, earning a shove from his captor. "Cut it out, dude, them's ma new boots!"

 

The older albino, with the hooded jacket, spoke up. "Yo man, these people didn't know, cut 'em some slack. Y'all said they're ya guests, yo."

 

Tino scoffed in agreement. "We're not your doorkeepers, you drunk." I tried to will my breathing slower, the sudden adrenaline rush heaving through my veins again. I wondered if I was going to crash sometime soon.

 

The man with the bomber jacket looked at all of us, his voice just as obnoxious as Mathias'. "We need to get this fool 'way from the door, this asshat."

 

I nodded in agreement, as did Tino and the other white-haired stranger. So I helped Mathias drag the Chelonite over by the counter, where the blond resumed his sitting position.

 

"I'm sorry I didn't get up here sooner, ya guys." Mathias sighed, looking up at all of us. "Are y'all okay?"

 

"Mostly." Tino picked at some skin where a laser nicked him, emphasizing his reply.

 

"Surely." Emil sneezed where he sat on the floor.

 

"Ya." I simply said.

 

There was an uncomfortable silence.

 

Mathias' face twisted into worry. "...what about Lukas?"

 

I turned to look behind the sofa, letting a minuscule gasp out.

 

"Where's Lukas?!" Tino lit up in an instant at my reaction.

 

"N't... here..." My eyebrows knit in frustration and confusion. I distinctly remembered tackling him with me behind the couch, and him curling up between Emil and I in the laser fire.

 

In the moment that I got up to rescue Tino, that moment... could he have...?

 

...No. He's surely here somewhere.

 

I went into Mathias' bedroom, looking carefully around. "Lukas? Mm?" The closet, with all the blankets and clothes, resurrected not a single person.

 

"Lukas?!" I heard Tino yell from the other room.

 

In turning my head to the nightstand, I spied the very tip of a foot underneath the bed, barely revealed past the edges of the over-sized sheets. Surely that would be him.

 

I crouched. "Lukas. 'S over. Come out n'w." Dark eyes peered back out at me, and a hand slowly reached out to touch my arm. There was that sensation again, like I was being comforted. Lukas sidled out on the floor, almost like a spider, with much deliberation, always keeping his hand on my wrist.

 

I can't put words to it, still. What it is... I can't seem to place. It was almost like....

 

But Tino stopped my rumination, as he heaved himself through the doorway with all the worry of the world. "Lukas!?"

 

I heard Mathias and what were presumably his friends talking in the main room, about the alien intruders... partially I wanted to go speak with them, and partially I wanted to stay in here with my family, stay for just a moment to talk over what just happened...

 

...ask about what was happening between Lukas and I... But...

 

I was back in the position of decision again, and now, more than before, I was farther from the answers I wanted to know.

 

XXX


	10. Shades of Cruelty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning for more gore, as well as torture elements.

 

 

I looked at Berwald, then at Lukas on the floor. Sighing, and even if it didn't look like either of them were hurt from the fight, I worried nonetheless.

 

I decided not to tell either of them, but there were more places than one where I got nicked with a laser or two... or three. Or many. There was a serious risk, even with getting grazed by those accursed weapons. Experience told me that the radiation thrown out was insidious.

 

I also didn't tell them that it was my carelessness that got those Chelonites here. Those hit-men.

 

Berwald's eyes locked with mine. Thinking, and suddenly a rage welled up inside me.

 

My legs carried me swiftly back into the living room straight to Mathias, those strangers...

 

...and their captive seated at the base of the counter.

 

Mathias looked up at me. "What're ya gonna do, Tino?"

 

I stared deeply into the down-turned face of the Chelonite, wondering how his thoughts were flowing, what his mind was processing, thinking about how I should go about getting the details out of him.

 

He turned to look up at me, frowning, and spit into my face.

 

Wet on my cheek.

 

This motherfucking asshole doesn't know what he's dealing with, does he?

 

There were many cries as I brutally struck the hit-man's face with the laser pistol in my possession.

 

"Holy shit bro, chill chill!"

 

"What the fuck!?"

 

"Tino, what the --?"

 

"EVERYONE SHUT THE FUCK UP." I spat coldly. With menace, rage. "Be quiet for once in your loud-ass lives." There was an audible gulp from the man with the bomber jacket standing behind Mathias.

 

My hand gripped the jaw of the alien before me, secure in the lock of Mathias' wide arms. "Tell me something, where you sent by Falsov's company?! Eh?! Where you sent to take my life, take my family back away from me?! EH?!"

 

The albino, playing like a gang member guessing from his bling, stepped forward cautiously off the nearest bar stool. "Yo man, that ain't how y'all should pull an interrogation --"

 

He found his face on the far end of a laser pistol. My laser pistol.

 

"I know what the fuck I'm doing. I've killed more people than the amount of times your mother's ever breastfed you, so sit your pansy ass back down and take some notes."

 

I smirked when he sat down cautiously again, holding his ringed hands up in defeat. "Yo okay man, you's da boss, man..."

 

I felt the steps of Berwald on the floor behind me, refocusing with confidence on the unwavering eyes of the Chelonite. "How many trigger pulls to reach your brain, you think? One? Two?" I held the pistol in front of me. Waiting.

 

He coughed in a croak, spitting on Mathias' boots a second time, and earning a second shove from the tall blond. "Hey now, I said knock it off, dude!"

 

"Mathias. If you want him to listen, do less than kindness. Be cruel."

 

Mathias looked at me with a wounded look, as if it were completely incomprehensible to be anything but kind for him. He has no spine, I swear. All it takes is one splinter and reality comes crashing down, seems like.

 

But this bastard, this hit-for-hire, he needed stronger tactics to crack. Literally.

 

And then I remembered a tactic I picked up off the streets, a torture method. Something that I didn't want Lukas to see... something nobody deserved to see, but I decided was necessary to get this fool to spill his secrets.

 

"Berwald. I need you to keep Lukas in the other room. He doesn't need to see this." I turned to look up at him, willing a stare into his fierce eyes. "Berwald, do it for me." In the corner of my eye, I saw Emil rise and go into the bedroom on his own initiative.

 

My fiance narrowed his eyes, and then I understood what he wanted from body language alone. "I'm gonna need to do some brutal stuff to crack this nut. I don't want to set Lukas off."

 

That explanation seemed to work for him well enough. He knelt down beside me and placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, rubbing his thumb in. He said nothing, but gave me a sad look. Something, I think, along the lines of...

 

'You're a different person from when I knew you.'

 

Well... if he was actually thinking that, in that moment...

 

He's unfortunately right.

 

When the resounding click of the lock echoed from the door far behind me, I stood and set the pistol on the counter. My iron gaze turned to the man in the jacket.

 

"You. Get me the biggest knife from over there."

 

"My name's Alfred."

 

"Alright, alright, just get me the damn knife."

 

Mathias gave me a sour look as I took the knife from Alfred, never looking at anything else.

 

I met his sour look with bitterness of my own. "Tell me, Mathias, have you ever seen a person bleed?"

 

"Ya?" His eyebrows furrowed.

 

"I mean...bleed to death?"

 

"...." And there was the tell-tale sign of his weakness again, engulfing him with unbearable truth. "...ya."

 

"And have you ever seen a Chelonite bleed out before?"

 

"No."

 

"Well, pay attention. There's a first for everything."

 

Alfred spoke up just then. "You're serious? You're just gonna kill this poor bastard?"

 

"And you wouldn't kill, if they tried to kill you and those you loved?" I retorted. "It's all I know to do. I can tell you've never defended your own life before."

 

The blond coughed anxiously. He was about to open an argument, but the albino interrupted. "Yo man, we should turn this jackass into the police anyway, they could get more info outta him."

 

Mathias looked up at his friend in exasperation. "Gil, did ya not get tha context? This guy's tha Winter Sniper."

 

The albino gangster-wannabe, Gil, backed all the way up to the wall. "Fucking hell, I didn't know that, man! Yo, there's a bounty of ass-loads of credits on yo ass, what the hell y'all doin'?!"

 

Alfred blinked in disbelief. "I just gave a knife to you, holy shit."

 

I snorted, glaring at both of them. "Too late now, ain't it, bitch?"

 

Mathias gulped. I turned my gaze back to the Chelonite captive, running the meat knife under the ridge of the chin. "Tell me, do you know what color your own blood is?"

 

He narrowed his eyes, the alien. Smirked. The bastard.

 

I gripped at one scale plate on his shoulder, feeling for the separation. "Listen, I'm only gonna tell you this once. For every question I ask that you don't answer, I'm gonna strip you bald. Since you need those for basic survival, I suggest you comply quickly. I know how easily your kind can bleed without this kind of protection."

 

I paused to tap the knife on the scales, for emphasis. "You know, I could even make a profit off of these. There's a high metal alloy concentration in these natural plates compared to some ores. Wouldn't that be fortunate for me, hm?"

 

His beady eyes stared into mine with conviction.

 

"Well, maybe you have balls of steel too. We'll see soon enough."

 

* * *

 

In the end, it was after I pried the scales off half his face and neck that the Chelonite finally cracked.

 

He stared at me with narrowed eyes and a frown, twitching from the pain and fire I imagined his nerves were harassing him with. His voice croaked out low and drawn-out, as if he were still restraining himself. "I don't know the name... Fal...sov..."

 

I slammed my hand on the counter angrily. "Bullshit. I know you do."

 

"I say...truth...and only truth..."

 

"LIE."

 

He looked at me with a fallen gaze. "Even if I told you that...Falsov was not my hirer...you would not believe this."

 

I simply glared, knife poised underneath another scale near his chin. The capstone of everything guarding the mouth, keeping it from sensitivity. Chelonites don't have lips for this reason. And perhaps, ironically, they can't flap their lips in lie because of it.

 

Perhaps.

 

But one never knows anything in this unfortunate world that we live in.

 

"You...Winter Sniper... you should know that there's more than just...a bounty."

 

Now this... this was the kind of information I was keen on getting. "What?"

 

"Other things are being sought for... besides you. You have something. They want it."

 

Mathias looked at me, mouthing a name. Lukas.

 

At least he had the inkling of sense to not speak out loud, thank Jumala.

 

But, I grimaced at the notion. That they were using me to get to my cousin. And even worse, it was the worry about what they could want with Lukas that wormed a way into my head, disrupting my concentration.

 

Dammit, focus, Tino. "Chelonite. What do 'they' want?"

 

"They would not tell me...for...I am inferior to their whims."

 

"Of course they fucking wouldn't." I slapped my legs in exasperation. "Not only were you hired by manipulative scumbags like the rest of them, but you HAD to be hired by a bunch of racists. Unbelievable, I thought that wasn't a thing anymore."

 

Alfred looked at me solemnly, hesitantly. "Well... it still is a thing. I'm surprised you thought it was a resolved thing, considering the experience with corporations you have."

 

I felt as if there was another curtain being drawn open, as if behind that curtain, there was another hydra for me to try and slay in ludicrous fashion. Another monster. Another dilemma.

 

No, Alfred was certainly right, I had missed a detail in all my jobs on this planet, somehow....

 

Damn. All of my targets were humans. How did I miss that? How?!

 

When will these shenanigans fucking end?!

 

"I've got another question, surprise. Who were you hired by?" I tipped the chin scale off the skin while I asked the question, a sizable gap forming and stretching bare. The Chelonite grimaced in response.

 

"...S....V."

 

"What?"

 

"S...V. That is my hirer."

 

I narrowed my gaze. "Are those initials?"

 

"Yes... For a corporation....which deals in the business of -- " His voice suddenly cut, a grim countenance enveloping his visage.

 

"Dealing in what?"

 

"I-I-I-I --" Then there was a dim thud and the Chelonite's body began to shake violently.

 

Mathias looked at me with concern, and it immediately registered in me what was going on.

 

"EVERYONE, GET AWAY!"

 

Alfred seemed to have the same instinct simultaneously, peeling right around the counter for the sofa. I dived across the table in front of the Wide Display, curling up in reflex as the carpet scored my shoulder.

 

There was another dim thudding sound as the Chelonite slumped over, and then the sound of metal being banged against, and then a very -- and I mean VERY -- discomforting sound, something disproportionately.... liquefied.

 

I lifted my head up cautiously over the table, nose wrinkling at the smell. "Damn."

 

Gil popped his head over the sofa. "Smells like shit yo, yikes...."

 

Mathias' face appeared next to Gil's. "Y'all okay? What was that?"

 

"Microwaves." I uttered.

 

Alfred stood up from his hidden position. "What do you mean, 'microwaves'?" The sunlight shadowed his face, making his eyes go dark in worry.

 

And I had the exact same worry. "Exactly that."

 

Something had gone up, and my suspicions were alarming. I ventured over to examine the now deceased hit-for-hire with disgust, the smell of cooked flesh and metal assailing the air.

 

An opening had been blown wide into the chest cavity of the Chelonite. The entirety of the carpet in an uneven radius around the alien had become thoroughly scorched, the counter side was singed alongside. All over the immediate vicinity, giblets of muscle had decorated themselves disturbingly against the egg white color of the carpet. I held my hands near the carcass, getting a read for if the temperature had changed. And since there was an extreme amount of heat....

 

A-ha.

 

"Bingo."

 

Mathias sidled up beside me. "...that's gonna be so hard ta get outta tha carpet..."

 

I turned to his crestfallen face. "Do you have any stick-shaped kitchenware you're willing to part with for life?"

 

His eyebrows raised in surprise. "Why fer life? What are ya talkin' 'bout?"

 

"It's too hot to stick my hands in there. I need something to poke around with, obviously. And I don't think you'd relish the idea of serving food after the thing's been touched with a Category E4 biochemical."

 

Mathias grimaced. He went to the compartment under the kitchen sink, tooling around for something.

 

And what a biochemical. Chelonite blood is a severe human neurotoxin. Not that Mathias or many other people would know that.

 

Unfortunately.... I only knew that from a personal experience.

 

While Mathias was digging through the moldy darkness underneath the basin, I heard the bedroom door opening. The voice of Berwald crept out towards us all.

 

"Wh't happen'd?" I turned my eyes to meet him again.

 

My response was candid, at best. "We almost cooked ourselves alive."

 

Alfred coughed nervously. "Um yeah, it scared the living shit out of me."

 

I gave Berwald a stern look. "I was able to get some key points out of that alien, but then he skipped. I think whoever hired him... inserted, we'll say for now, a microwave bomb. Into the body, so that the hit-man couldn't reveal too much information in case of interrogation."

 

He nodded, seeming to get the jist of what I was describing. Good.

 

Emil leaned around the corner to peer in, wrinkling his nose. "Ewwwww, fucking disgusting. What happened to that poor sod?"

 

I huffed. "Microwaves! How many times do I have to repeat myself?!"

 

There was the clatter of more metal on the floor. "It's not kitchenware, but I found an ol' toilet cleaner under here! Would that work?" Mathias called to me.

 

"Your bet your blond ass it will, move out of the way!" I shoved past Gil to get to the body again (that obviously earned some cussing from the albino). Mathias tossed me the brush over his shoulder, and I caught it with certainty. The plastic handle was prodded into the sizzling remains of the Chelonite, poking away ruptured organs and what-not.

 

"A-HA! It's as they say, eureka!!"

 

Berwald and Alfred peered over my shoulder, one grunting and the other coughing.

 

I pried a small metal box out from under what looked like a lung. "This right here, I'd recognize it anywhere. A microwave radiator. The same kind you use to cook burgers."

 

"I think I'm gonna be sick...." quavered Emil's voice, somewhere near the sofa.

 

"I'm right there with ya, bro." Gil responded.

 

"This...." I lifted a frayed wire with the handle. "Is a voice processor, tuned to a specific vocabulary in a specific language. It's a common set-up for bosses that don't want their henchmen squawking. Once the processor registers a certain frequency of words, it sets off the engine inside the larger box, which then uses energy directly from the body to gather lethal amounts of microwaves....and then disperse them all at once throughout the person."

 

"That's it, then?" Alfred hedged.

 

"Yeah, the simplified version, anyway." I looked into his blue eyes solemnly. "It's overkill for Chelonites..."

 

"...because their bodies are encased in metal already." Gil cleared his throat.

 

I snapped my finger. "Precisely."

 

Mathias frowned from where he sat on the kitchen floor. "Man, that's really cruel compared ta what ya were doin' earlier...."

 

I sighed. "...yeah. But enough about this poor fucker. We need to establish our escape plan. I have an odd instinct that tells me whoever sent these two dumbasses knows they're dead now."

 

Berwald stood up fully again. "I'll g' get Lukas." I nodded.

 

Mathias went and covered both the bodies in trash bags, probably sensing the danger in leaving them exposed.

 

And me? I sat down on the couch until everyone followed suit, thinking carefully about what the Chelonite had said to me shortly before his grisly death.

 

Was he really talking about Lukas? Or....

 

...was I over-reading that?

 

* * *

 

Soon enough, we reconvened on the couch. Mathias was the last to take a seat on a bar stool he had dragged over, after locking the door. I sat on the edge of the couch, Lukas between Berwald and I. Emil took the other edge straight across from me, and Gil and Alfred sat between Emil and Berwald.

 

I was impressed the couch was wide enough for six people.

 

After some awkward silence, Alfred's voice pierced the air. "It's about 10:30, we need to think about stuff."

 

There was the nodding of heads all around, and mouths saying variations of 'yes'.

 

I leaned forward to catch the eye of Emil. "Before we start, I need to get something clear."

 

Emil didn't notice me staring at him right away, until Gil tapped him on the shoulder. He stopped spacing out and seemed surprised to learn I was glaring at him.

 

"What the fuck do you want with me??"

 

I crossed my arms in a matter-of-fact fashion. "Earlier, before the hit-men showed up, you seemed very interested in learning where specifically the explosion happened at the mining complex. Before that, when we were in the van, you said that 'Yao's squad was chasing us'. I have a feeling the two are somehow related. It could save all of our asses later if you tell us now what's going on."

 

There was an awkward silence.

 

My voice became more monotone. "Emil. You might know something about the police that we don't, do you realize that? This escape? It's a group effort."

 

Berwald nodded in agreement, putting his hand over mine.

 

"What you know... could change this trapped situation we're in -- you're in -- right now."

 

That seemed to spark something. And then he spoke.

 

"....Okay." He breathed deeply, about twice, shakily, and then continued while playing with a segment of his down-colored hair.

 

"It's gonna be hard to keep my personal feelings out of this... But... My worst enemy... and my best friend... are father and son."

 

 

XXX


	11. The Dragon's Chess Set

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back on my B.S. again, enjoy~~

It was disgusting, I thought.

 

I was being forced like that into exposing myself. Exposing my feelings about the military force, my insecurities, my loneliness, and how I missed having Leon's presence around.

 

Somewhere, the sound of a door opening in my mind rang out sharp, a cringing sensation filled with the creaking of a thousand splinters. Like a shredder.

 

I wasn't fine with the pushiness that Tino showed me.

 

I wasn't fine with any of it, the perky eyes of Mathias boring into me, the discerning gaze of the bear, the weird look coming from the other albino in the room.

 

My hands found the remote and turned off the Wide Display, since I considered it a distraction.

 

That, and the morning light was getting to be too much, so I shut my eyes for a bit. It seemed like the thing to do at the time. And I breathed in deep and heavy, with a sigh.

 

"....Yao Wang. Maybe you've heard of him."

 

I paused to consider Tino's reaction. His eyes regarded me with steely intent, ready to dissect the information. Then I continued, with the observation that my heart was racing again, hands shaky with nervous adrenaline.

 

"Wang's the leader of the Military Police in this city. By default, since this is the only settlement on Denber, it makes him head of the law of the entire planet; the mercantile and civil all follow up under his gaze. He's corrupt. He's a tycoon."

 

I paused again, wondering whether I should say it...

 

...And then I did. "He invests in the Honeyfun industry."

 

Tino's nostrils flared almost invariably, and Berwald's shoulders tensed.

 

Mathias was quick to jump on that statement. "So... But... That's just so wrong! He can't legally do that!"

 

The Winter Sniper's face snapped to his right. "Think about it, drunk. If he's in control of the law, he is the law. For all that fucking means. You know as well as I do that law exists nowhere on this planet. It's all a big joke." He leaned back in silence, seemingly satisfied with his lightning rebuttal.

 

I took that as my cue to continue. Mathias stared at the wall blankly, a frown upturning his lips.

 

"Anyway, his family is rather large. Wang has many heirs that he uses to play chess in his endeavors. Some people of his family have escaped his iron dragon rule and fled off-world, but they all... Well, you could say that they all were found soon enough."

 

I leaned back onto the leather couch. "And they were violated and tortured only in ways that the most sadistic could dream of. Because that's what Yao Wang is. And moreover, that dynamic defines my connection to him. By technicality, I am his adopted son, an outcast in the family, and, unfortunately, I am his pawn."

 

Another pause to steady my breathing. "Leon is his youngest son, his runt. Leon is also my only friend in the force. He was the only thing keeping me. From trying to run. Earlier, when I saw that the mine complex had an explosion, I reacted that way because I was concerned for Leon's safety."

 

I could feel my eyes starting to water. Was it irritation from the microwaved carcass odor? Was it frustration because of the masked interrogation?

 

...

 

Was it sadness about my prescribed fate? That Wang would find me and torture me in front of his entire family? In front of Leon?

 

I had to shut my eyes to stop the tears, to shut away the shitty emotions I was feeling. At that moment, I wanted to crawl away, or lock myself in the bathroom, or even will myself onto another plane of existence. But...

 

...Escape from this wasn't an option. In order for it all to end, I had to keep going.

 

I shivered involuntarily. "Yeah...so... He's got a hold on everything. He's got rats looking as eyes for him in the alleys. He's got prostitutes that keep beads on significant businessmen. Wang plays the game of power like it's all he's ever known. Nothing slips him."

 

Mathias' blond friend leaned over to look at me considerably, glasses falling down the bridge of his distinct nose. "But you got away though, obviously. I mean, you're here and everything."

 

Berwald narrowed his eyes at the carpet. "Not 'f th' dragon gets 'm."

 

"...Right." I shakily uttered, blinking slowly. For a moment, I spaced out and studied the red weaving in the stitches of the couch, following their almost serpentine path along the armrest. "At this point, it's a matter of how long I can go before Wang gets tired of my absence... and drags me ass-first back into hell."

 

I locked eyes again with Tino, who then spoke up.

 

"Besides Leon, who else is related to Yao Wang? What are his major connections?"

 

"I guess you could say his twin sons are his knights -- Leon's older brothers. One is a military officer under Yao's direction, and the other deals in the mercantile, specifically with the Cargo-Hauler's Union."

 

There was an instantaneous tension in the air as I finished. Mathias' face snapped out of some kind of haze and lit up like a fire, his entire body leaping to standing from the rickety stool. The shock was apparent. "The Union?! What about them?"

 

Mathias' two friends also gravitated their attention on me readily, mouths agape and eyes wide.

 

"That twin, Yong Soo... he's Wang's foothold to what goes on in the interplanetary. He's a practiced trucker, who knows the logistics and connections necessary."

 

Mathias looked to his friends. "Alfred, don't ya know tha guy? Ya went ta lunch with him once, right?"

 

Alfred drew back in surprise. "Hey, don't go associating me with him, now, I didn't know he was a spy for someone!" He pouted. "We were talking about pop stars, besides. Gil was there too."

 

The albino quickly jumped into an excuse. "Na, that's 'cause yo dumbass decided to pull an all-nighter to one of them science outposts. Yo ass was also hopped up on, no fucking joke, THREE boxes of them caffeine-infused nutrite bars. The stupid beer flavored ones that were limited edition that we decided to buy at a quick mart at, like, three in the fucking morning."

 

Mathias broke into peals of thunderous and guttural laughter, which made him sound like an engine revving up. "Oh yeah, I remember that, ya literally pressed yer face ta that display glass an' looked like a little kid!"

 

This entire time, I had been watching Tino slowly unfold into higher levels of agitation and anger, until he finally couldn't hold it any longer. The moment we all registered the click of the small laser gun in his hand, we all quieted and became still. Gil fought to suppress his laughter, hoarse coughs creeping between his pale ringed hands.

 

For another moment, there was an uncomfortable silence, with the rumble of hover-cars in late morning traffic emanating through the outer walls. Somewhere in the distance, there was the sound of an angry arguing couple, shouting curses and hatred towards each other.

 

Tino lowered his gun, and looked directly into Mathias' eyes. "So, you're a member of the Cargo Union, then? Along with your two friends?"

 

The blond's spiky hair bobbed as he nodded yes. "Yeah. I actually drive construction materials, like stuff fer buildin' satellites an' space stations an' real cool stuff like that. That's ma job, all right." He sat again, seeming pleased with himself.

 

Gil coughed again. "Alfred's my bro. We co-pilot shuttles back and forth between Denber and various resorts here in the 'stem. You know, out to Eyfee and Dernsonst and all them good places that the rich fuckers like."

 

Mathias nodded again. "M-hm. There's part of tha plan that Gil and I came up with when I called him this mornin'. We were thinkin' ta smuggle y'all off-planet. Ya know, by one of those shuttles!"

 

I crossed my arms and considered the idea shrewdly.

 

It seemed like a virtuous plan at first look, but something also smelled dangerous. Alarmingly so. And not because of the alien corpses ruining Mathias' carpet.

 

"But what if we get onto the transport and someone recognizes our faces? There are enough people under Wang's influence among the rich pricks anyway." I shuddered to consider that I might run into Leon that way, and then have a bitter encounter.

 

Tino passed a grim smile in response. "Well, then we take them hostage, of course. We could use them to fork supplies out, give ourselves some secure ransom money, and then get ourselves a suitable vehicle and get the hell out of this system. Seems clear to me."

 

Berwald's eyebrows furrowed sharply. "Would w' harm 'm?"

 

"Obviously not. I may be a criminal, but I'm not morally corrupt."

 

"Okay... but what about Gil and I? If something does happen, and we go along with you guys, we'd lose our jobs." Alfred stared at his lap wearily. "We wouldn't have a future."

 

"We'd fake taking you under ransom, obviously."

 

Gil cracked his knuckles very audibly. "Yo okay, you point a gun at my head? That's too freaky man. I don't like that. I wouldn't even let you."

 

The Winter Sniper only scoffed.

 

Mathias cocked his head, somewhat like a curious animal, perhaps like a dog. He was training his eyes up on the ceiling as if it held the answer to something he was considering. Waiting to suggest something perhaps. And then he voiced something, probably what he was thinking about.

 

"I'm more concerned 'bout actually gettin' y'all ta tha shuttle in tha first place. Gil and Al don't do another run until after the Midnight Festival."

 

Gil nodded next to me. "Yeah man. We took that sucker off to get some nice R&R."

 

"Cool, then we'll just break into the shuttle, no problem." Tino smirked. "...Unless you all are too cowardly."

 

"Or...." Gil jumped in hastily. "Yo, we wait until Alfred and I have our first shuttle-run after the Festival, and then we can get y'all on with an after-season discount, yeah?

 

Tino looked at each of us, leg bouncing restlessly and displaying way too much agitation to be safe. "Fine then. We'll do that. For four days we go hide in the wilderness outside the city. Not much of a choice! Sounds good!"

 

It was hard to tell if the last sentence was meant to be a question or not, so I was scared to respond.

 

Luckily, Berwald took that initiative before the rest of us. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then slowly responded. "Sounds g'd. Let's d' it."

 

Lukas gave him a subtle nod, then stared down at the floor again.

 

Mathias shrugged. "I mean, I already technically broke into tha police compoun'. I'm as good as a wanted man, way I figure."

 

Alfred frowned a bit. "I guess I can kiss my job goodbye."

 

Gil said nothing, but silently nodded like Lukas.

 

And when Tino looked at me, for my opinion or consent, or whatever the hell he wanted... I froze. I had a response ready, but I suddenly lost it the moment his eyes blazed into mine. I couldn't handle it, so I looked away.

 

"I guess. I-I've got nothing better as an option anyway." I cursed myself internally for the stupid stutter that came out.

 

The criminal leaned back on the couch. "Alright. Let's grab all the supplies we can. Clothes. Food. Everything useful."

 

As everyone began to stand and shuffle, Alfred and Gil went to speak with Mathias in a corner of the room. I zoned out again, unavoidably, second-nature to me.

 

And, instead of letting my thoughts ramble, I tried to give myself a moment of rest. For the vague but tough challenge ahead of me....

 

...ahead of all of us.

 

* * *

 

It was almost high noon when we all began to prepare for the trip in Mathias' apartment. Alfred and Gil had went to check on their vehicle and adjust the space inside for seating all seven of us.

 

Mathias let everyone pick out a handful of clothes to take with them, saying constantly that it was no worry for him to be giving us all of this, that he didn't need it anyway. He also encouraged everyone to take a blanket with them too.

 

After that remark was made, I noticed that Lukas immediately went and found a specific blanket to take with him, something that was unlike all the other blankets. I personally decided on an all-white blanket that had some kind of stitched pattern along the edges.

 

While the commotion was going on, I thought about what the wilderness could be like. I had never been outside the city proper, so what lied beyond was literally beyond me. Was it cold? Was it humid? I didn't know, so I asked Mathias when he had a moment.

 

My voice came out hoarse and gravelly. "Hey, what's it like outside the city?"

 

"Uhh...wild? I don't know how ta explain. No one goes out there 'cause there's lotsa big animals and predators an' stuff like that, ya know. Kinda warm, not humid though, it's mostly forest around here, but not dense, ya know?"

 

I didn't have the heart to ask him what a forest was. What he was telling me was raising more questions than answers, so I decided to keep my mouth shut again, and get busy picking out what I could bring with me.

 

Secretly, I was beyond grateful for Mathias' generosity...it was just that that kind of expression was hard for me, especially after terse conversation like what had just happened.

 

And more importantly, it was because my nerves were absolutely rattled that I tried to avoid Tino as much as possible until we finished packing. This whole shenanigan with him fishing information out of me was ridiculous at least and traumatizing at most.

 

It was just so absolutely ridiculous. So ridiculous.

 

I went and knelt by the nightstand in Mathias' bedroom, fishing my police-issued satchel from off of the floor. The dragon insignia glinted crimson at me in the light of the morning sun, an expensive carving for a significant title... family of the Wang mafia.

 

I hated the way the serpent wrapped around itself on the treated leather, almost like a noose. I hated the many horrible things it symbolized, I hated the false premonitions it gave to people who didn't know the dark inhumane secrets.... I hated. Just....

 

I hated it all.

 

Someone tapped my shoulder and I whirled around at them. My voice came out angry and low, on the offensive because my space was being breached. "WHAT?"

 

"Are ya doin' okay, Emil?" It was the spiky hair and eyes that I saw at first glance, and then I knew it was Mathias. His eyebrows turned upwards. "I wanted ta check on ya after that whole thing, ya know? I feel really bad fer ya."

 

I stared at him in disbelief. He invaded my personal space just to ask me that?

 

...Cheeky son-of-a-bitch.

 

"Why don't you mind your own damn business, you drunk? I don't have any friends among any of you. I'm by myself here."

 

At first, Mathias recoiled, but then he returned to his normal joviality. "...I was jus' concerned 'bout ya. Was wantin' ta know if ya needed help gatherin' stuff for yerself, or anythin'."

 

It entirely caught me off guard at how quick his emotional recovery was, just like earlier.

 

He continued after I stayed silent for a bit. "And... ya know... I wanna be yer friend still. Even if ya don't wanna be mine."

 

My eyes trained on him in continuous disbelief at the constant gratitude he was saying to me. Something inside me caved and clicked simultaneously, and I sat down upon the bed to ask him something.

 

Because curiosity had gotten the upper hand over me.

 

"...Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me, and Tino and them? We're just strangers to you."

 

There was something about the way he smiled that seemed so genuinely... genuine. And different. Like he actually wanted to befriend a complete stranger... a stupid and emotional outcast like me.

 

Mathias leaned his sturdy weight against the wall by the door, closing his eyes in thought.

 

In the brief respite, I heard sounds in the backdrop, of Tino talking with Berwald in the other room, Gil and Alfred bickering over something.

 

Then Mathias opened his eyes again. "I'm gonna say again that I'm not good at explainin' ma'self. " He smiled. "I think... I think tha answer ta yer question is that I dunno."

 

And so he continued to baffle me further. "But why though? Are you normally a whimsical person like this?" I stared down at my fingers, wrapped white as paper around the satchel.

 

He stretched his arms high above, to touch the ceiling, fingers splayed wide. "Not really. But there was some kind of a feelin' I felt that just said ta take a chance on y'all. It was somethin' 'bout tha way everythin' went down last night at tha police complex."

 

I could agree with that. It was rather strange to me as well.

 

He looked down at me with a kind of pensive look. "Maybe I'm still a little hungover. I dunno." His arms relaxed to his sides, almost like a deflating bag full of air.

 

I studied his face. "Do you think it's all a set-up? Maybe Wang's playing the strings on us all?"

 

I immediately regretted what I just suggested... because the look that came upon his face spoke ultimately of despair and complete horror.

 

"But how could that be? I've never had any involvemen' with shady people. I've just been trying ta live an honest workin' life, ya know?" He hung his head low. "And if I've been controlled all ma life..."

 

And just like the trigger on a laser pistol, his mood reverted straight back to hope without fail, his voice suddenly growing adamant. I almost flinched at how suddenly he straightened his posture.

 

"No.... No! No, I don't believe that fer a split nanosecon'!" Mathias crossed his arms. "Sorry Emil, but I don't think that's what's going on here! I WANT ta help y'all!" He grinned widely and proudly.

 

I only sighed.

 

Maybe he was right, maybe I was just being paranoid and speculative again, like I always was.

 

He left the room in a cheerier mood than before, sing-humming some strange song I had never heard before.

 

"Ain't got nothin' but love, babe~~~"

 

I snorted. Something about the way he sang suited him so well.

 

My attention turned back to the satchel in my hands, and the feeling of hatred that I had before just wasn't there.

 

I took a brief glance at my fingernails...

 

...And then I tore the dragon insignia straight off the leather. The threads strained and tore away with satisfactory ripping.

 

I buried it in the bedroom trashcan and left to meet the others.

 

For once in a long time, I was feeling different, strangely so.

 

It was almost like... excitement.

 

XXX


	12. Troubled Rumination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year everyone! Sorry for the late chapter update, I've been having wi-fi troubles over my holiday break so far!
> 
> The gang finally makes a move!

The footfall was heavy on the untreated carpet as the seven of us left the apartment, clad in more fitting day clothes, as was manageable.

 

It was an amazing change from my bloody miner's wear and bare feet.

 

I still missed my spectacles rather sorely.

 

Mathias seemed rather put-out externally about leaving the place, and I noticed he had brought a lot of sentimental things along.

 

Something in his body language told me that he was reluctant to leave his honest life behind.

 

To a degree, I suppose I could understand him.

 

My gaze lingered on his hands as he shakily locked the door, those same hands then placing their palms upon the rusty 1397 which hung upon the upper portion.

 

He mouthed something inaudible while looking at the numbers.

 

My fiance gave me a confused look from his leaning position against the scratchy wallpaper, laser pistol hinting from the waistband of his pants. A shrug registered through my shoulders in response, since I wasn't sure what else to do.

 

After a moment, baited breath from everyone else, Mathias finally spoke.

 

"...I feel guilty 'bout just... leavin' ma place like this. With tha damage an' everythin'."

 

Alfred placed a hand on the blond's shoulder. "You can pay the desk ward when we leave, that one chic."

 

Mathias turned to face his friend with a sad smile. "Yeah I know. But it jus' doesn' change tha responsibility I feel."

 

Gil silently nodded, and then Emil raised his eyebrows in some kind of strange judgement.

 

The once-boisterous man turned to face all of us. "I'm sorry I get so hung up on these sorta things. We should probably go now, ya know?" Tones of great melancholy resounded in the way he spoke.

 

I considered a question, of asking him something about why he felt like bringing so many unnecessary things with him... as if he were making to leave his apartment entirely.

 

But, the situation didn't allow me the opportunity. The atmosphere was already somber as it was, oddly enough, so I held my tongue and decided not to ask about it.

 

We ventured down the hallway to the elevator in silence. I felt as if we were missing some important detail, even though I couldn't figure out why.

 

* * *

 

The harsh sunlight hit my face like flint on stone, and I squinted my eyes in retaliation. Far above the cracked sidewalk in the heated humid air, consistent rows of hover-cars sped back and forth in brilliant displays of metallic colors and sounds, blurring into cobium ribbons of exhaust production.

 

I left the doors of the run-down apartment complex with Lukas hanging onto my wrist, his eyes blinking away the glare. A pale, frail hand came up to shade his vision almost immediately, dark eyes looking around in what I took to be uncertainty. His blond hair faded to platinum in the intensity of the natural light, still shaggy and unkempt.

 

I readjusted my densely weighted pack and let Tino's younger cousin hook a thin arm around my elbow, his eyebrows raising in subtle but significantly silent relief.

 

On my right, bag slung casually over his shoulder, my fiance himself went along with a swagger rivaled by no other man. His relatively short height seemed to no longer play any factor in his sense of confidence, as I knew him to be before the taking. In his earthy eyes, I began to see, in-depth, just what kind of conviction he had learned for the past four years of our separation. His expression was desolate, but somehow excited at the same time.

 

Mathias walked behind the three of us with Emil, and Gil and Al were in the front of the group, leading the way to the vehicle. Those two were bickering just as they had in Mathias' apartment earlier, about who would drive and all sorts of nonsense.

 

I was relieved at how easy it was to simply walk to the car, and then also simultaneously surprised at how little attention we were payed by passersby...

 

...It really is amazing, what having clean and kept clothes does for your image in public.

 

All of a sudden, there was a great cry from Mathias in the back of our little walking group. Lukas flinched and Tino whirled on the spot, ready to address danger...

 

...but it seemed to be a false alarm.

 

"HEY, I CALL SHOTGUN!" Mathias' shoulder narrowly avoided mine as he rushed past me, shoes scraping on the sidewalk, tackling Alfred's back and causing Gil to jump a considerable height in shock.

 

"The fuck are you doing, Mat?!"

 

I sighed. If he didn't learn to be less obnoxious, it would be hard to not attract attention. I turned to Tino. "When's h' gonna g't it?"

 

He shrugged in return. "Not sure. I've half a mind to cut his tongue out if he gets us into a scrap."

 

My eyebrows furrowed, and Tino was quick to create an addendum to his statement as we went along, a smile creeping on his lips. "I'm kidding, okay? Hell, Berwald, don't look so concerned...."

 

"An' what 'bout Lukas, then?" I countered. Looking down, I could see that there was also concern in his eyes, which seemed to swim in confusion perpetually. Lukas looked at Tino with a scrutinizing look of some kind.

 

Tino seemed to falter at that remark, off-put by the looks from both of us he was being given. "...It was just a joke. Nothing more, I promise."

 

He held up his pinky finger like when we were younger, calling up nostalgia that had been aching in my soul. "I promise I won't cut his tongue out."

 

I wondered what he thought the look on my face was conveying -- disbelief or sadness -- and then also a part of me just didn't have the courage to find out. And so I maintained a discerning look at my fiance... and gently laid my hand over his, never hooking that pinky.

 

Yes, I still loved him.

 

But, there was something new I was seeing in his personality that was beginning to grate on my tolerance, something about how rough of a person Tino had become. He was absolutely different from the Tino I knew.

 

I absolutely ached for it, as Gil and Al stopped finally by the vehicle that was intended to carry us away.

 

Somehow to safety? How to some unknown.

 

Lukas studied the craft with intent, I noticed, passing a cool hand over the sun-glinted metal. He looked up at me with an ambient expression that I couldn't place.

 

I wasn't sure what to say, so I simply touched the sleeve of his shirt in a gesture of sympathy.

 

Whatever was out there in the wilderness... was going to be the least of my worries.

 

* * *

 

I sat in the middle in the very back, Tino on my left and Lukas on my right. Emil sat middle left, and Mathias sat middle right.

 

Gil and Al somehow agreed that the former would be the driver, so Alfred sat alongside on the passenger side, geoscale at the ready for navigation. Gil had many contraptions of his own that seemed to be modified into the dash around the driving wheel: a screen that showed the view from behind the vehicle, an environment monitor, and various other gadgets.

 

The car, with its barely noticeable trapezoidal shape, had enough room between the two middle seats for someone to get out of their seat, as if it had been modified to allow mid-flight seat swapping.

 

Mathias spoke up as I was examining the layout of the car. "Are we all ready? We got everythin'?"

 

Alfred turned to face his friend. "Yeah, just waiting to get satellite connection, hold up a sec."

 

Tino leaned forward next to me. "Is there any way you can bring that to center, so we can all consult it?"

 

"Yeah sure. And, uh... there we go!" The geoscale in this model of hover-car seemed to be fashioned like a radar, with a convex screen wrapping slightly around the display. Everything sat on a folded arm, which he extended to wrap around himself to almost right between Mathias and Emil's seats.

 

The whole contraption was a rather attractive design, I thought, and it complemented the decor inside the vehicle rather nicely.

 

"'Kay. Here you go." Alfred pressed a switch on the side of the set, and a hologram of a globe phosphoresced up from the lens. "So, this is the topography of the entire planet."

 

I studied the alien continents, confusing and utterly foreign to my sore eyes.

 

Tino nodded curtly, the light of the display contrasting sharply against the sun in his hair. "Alright, so how long will this cobium can ride?"

 

Gil inclined his head rather angrily. "Yo bitch, this CAN is NOT a can. My baby's a lean mean purring machine, and I call her Karma." He rubbed the dash affectionately with a pale hand.

 

Tino snickered. "How much do we have for fuel currently?"

 

Alfred glanced at what I guessed to be the fuel gauge, which was composed of both a clock and the normal style of quantity curve I was used to seeing. "Looks like.... uh... 83% on the battery, and 51% on oil. Based on what I've seen works best with this vehicle, we could maybe get 1500 kilometers one-way with it, maybe even top 2k if we get lucky with weather and can stay elevated above the lower troposphere. You know, minimize atmospheric thickness and all that junk."

 

Gil looked towards the gauge himself and sighed.

 

Mathias pressed a green button on his side of the arm, scrambling the hologram into a zoomed-in three-dimensional model of our relative location. The generic turquoise render lighting was surprisingly dim and non-harmful to the eyes. "Right, so this is where we are in the city, Tino. Where were you thinking about camping outside of the city zone?"

 

I watched the features of my love's face clench in serious thought, eyes narrowed and lips upturned in a subtle frown. In that moment, I thought, surely he had it all figured out. He acted like he had been ruminating on this idea ever since we all left the mining/police complex, as if it were second-nature to always have a back-up plan in operation.

 

My doubts were briefly chased away by wonder.

 

Tino rested his chin on an upturned palm, the other hand reaching out to the display like an old friend. "Not there... No.... What about -- no, not that either..."

 

"Can I make a suggestion?" Emil mumbled. Once he got Tino's reluctant agreement, he continued. "I think we should avoid places that might attract a lot of attention. Y'know, near metal nodes, landmarks, outposts, that sort of thing?"

 

Mathias smiled widely. "Of course!"

 

The map was zoomed by someone into a location northwest of the city, near a hilly region bordered by a small mountain range. Tino paused for a bit in consideration, looking at all of us. "And how much experience do each of us have with wilderness survival skills?"

 

Lukas shook his head negatively, and Emil said that he didn't have any. Gil and Al both shared that they each camped 3 times before. Mathias said he had been two times.

 

Tino turned to me. "That means we're the most experienced with this, Ber." I nodded my head bluntly.

 

It made the most sense, since we were already used to living off-the-grid back on Earth. It was our own way of life, frugal but happy, and we had many different things going for us -- a secured chicken coop, natural running water from up in the tundra, and an appreciation for the bounties of nature.

 

So, I thought, Tino and I would be the most sensitive when it came to valuing supplies. I was sure that Lukas would pick up that method soon, but I could tell Emil would easily eat through his rations quickly. He was still young, inexperienced, and still a general amateur about the whole thing yet.

 

"Does this thing have scanners for energy reading?" Emil examined the display closely, drumming his fingers on the leather armrest of his seat. "Seems to me like it would be useful."

 

Gil thought for a moment. "Yo, it's weird as fuck you bring that up, 'cuz I almost bought a kit for that couple days ago. It was on my to-do list, but it never got done, so yeah. Nah, this vehicle don't have one."

 

Tino snorted derisively. "Well it would certainly be useful to cover our tracks. I'm disappointed you didn't get it installed, but whatever. There's bigger fish to fry, I suppose."

 

Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Like??"

 

"The fact that we haven't even addressed how to bypass the border control. What do you have to suggest, Emil?"

 

He was caught off-guard by the sudden mention of his name, and stuttered a bit. "Uh-h, we could... uh... I know some about the border control the military police does around the outskirts of the city, and to my knowledge they don't really monitor this area." He tapped the display, circling his finger around a portion of gray labeled for the Park District.

 

Emil looked up at Mathias. "How often do you see operatives around here, you think?"

 

"Hmmm, well, maybe somethin' like every couple o' days or so. Why, ya got an idea?"

 

The teenager nodded confidently. "Yeah, something like that. If my hunch is correct and they haven't changed their rounds schedule yet, it means that this area should be relatively unmonitored until about nightfall. They commonly look around the Park District here because it's a back door for uncontrolled weapons smuggling, but only at night when it's way easier for vehicles to sneak in."

 

Alfred whistled. "Wow, you seem to know quite a bit about all of this."

 

Emil tsk-ed and looked away. "Oh shut up, it's basic knowledge for a standard rookie like me."

 

Tino fidgeted a bit and leaned back on his side of the seat with a huff. "Seems straightforward to me, then. We leave through this unguarded part, the back door, then veer northwest to the hills. Let's get a move on, let's go."

 

"WOAH woah woah, hold up yo..." Gil turned around once more and looked Tino straight in the eyes. "There's one more thing we gotta address."

 

I almost predicted Tino's reaction exactly. "What now?!"

 

"We need tents and gear and shit, yo. Weapons, huh? Yo ass the only one armed here, and I don't feel safe 'bout it."

 

Before Tino's mouth could open in a fiery storm, I spoke up. "I 'gree. W' need d'fense."

 

I was shot a wounded look out of the corner of my eye, which I turned to meet with certainty. My gaze sent unwavering and I tried to match the stubborn streak coming from Tino's look. Eventually, he resigned with a hefty sigh. "...Fine. I know someone that I can pull some strings for and get some."

 

His cut-up hands deftly inserted coordinates into the display, and the hologram registered a location that looked like a restaurant. "Here."

 

Alfred gave him a rather strong incredulous look. "...That's just a noodle shop. I go there all the time to eat, ain't nothing there."

 

Tino rolled his eyes. "Do you want weapons or not, dumbass?"

 

Emil looked at Alfred. "I wouldn't argue. Let's just see where this goes, I'm tired of how long this is taking us to plan out."

 

As he readjusted his spectacles on his nose, Alfred sighed. "Okay, I guess, but I'm gonna be pissed if there's nothing there." His arm snaked back to collapse the folding arm with the display, returning it to the original position in front of him.

 

I watched Tino press a button on the front of the seat between his legs. I tried to copy his movements and found one against the metal siding beneath me. Almost instantaneously, two straps extended and magnetically connected in an x over the vicinity of my rib-cage, tightening automatically to snugly fit my body.

 

Lukas seemed to panic at this, so I tried to help keep him calm by holding his hands. "Jus' look at m' an' don' think 'bout it." I told him.

 

He thankfully did, and I was able to activate his safety straps without an anxiety attack happening. My hand never left his for a moment, in case something else were to happen. He kept an eye on me out of the corner of his long lashes, as if he thought about saying something but was hesitating.

 

I paid it no attention. I realized, as Gil started the hover-car, that it would take a lot of time and effort for Tino's cousin to return back to his former self, and be healed from all this madness.

 

This madness....

 

I relaxed in the seat and thought for a bit, deciding to let go of Lukas' hand once it seemed like he had gotten over the shock of the vehicle starting. As Gil steered the vehicle up to join the flow of cars I had seen earlier, I closed my eyes and thought through the memory of the laboratory, the terror I saw when I went in with Mathias and Emil.

 

* * *

 

I remember the stark smell of disinfectant and sanitizer that permeated the shadowed halls as Mathias and I went along, and how my eyes had difficulty adjusting to the dimness.

 

I also remember the confusion I felt and pressure to figure out where Lukas was being kept, the labyrinthine halls seeming a monster of itself as our footsteps echoed out of reach. The tiling was only weakly reflecting the ground lights, milky, pale, and possessing an almost sickly nature as the rest of the place did.

 

I recalled the weight of Tino slung over my shoulder, alive but motionless, a treasure but also a dead weight.

 

Mathias had asked Emil something in a whisper, and then we went left down a corridor, which I remembered in hindsight as being marked 'Experimental Division'.

 

It was right then that I recalled hearing an abomination wrecking havoc, what sounded like shredding metal reverberating down the hallway and jump-starting an adrenaline pile in my veins.

 

I remember my heart feeling like it would leap out of my throat, as Mathias and Emil both stood rooted in fear, in that forsaken darkness.

 

Screams. So much screaming...

 

And... there was also the terrible headache that I suddenly had in my head, as I reeled to lean on the wall, like someone was playing a siren over and over, but it was all in my head, just a figment of my imagination... because covering my ears did nothing.

 

To this moment, I can't imagine how Mathias and Emil were able to cope with the sensation. It seemed impossible to bear.

 

It was only seconds, but it felt like minutes. And then we saw a door open down the hall, and blood seeping out into the hallway like an accursed crimson sea spreading its shores.

 

The whole experience was surreal. I wasn't sure if I was delirious from the mental klaxon or something else...But I have this memory, this memory of seeing someone floating spotless over the blood soaked floor, almost glowing in the flickering halogen lighting.

 

The eyes froze my blood in all ways but the literal. There was a sheer chaotic energy coming from them, something that went beyond concepts of fear and the supernatural.

 

It was something else, something from another plane of existence.

 

Something I knew we were defenseless against. I was positive that it was going to kill all of us in whatever that unearthly state was.

 

I could see it in the absolute despair in Mathias and Emil's stances, collapsed on the floor, eyes starving for hope.

 

So I resigned my strength, and I had given up hope in that moment.

 

And I fell to the same despair that I could see had crashed into Mathias and Emil beside me.

 

If I didn't have Tino with me.... well...

 

I wouldn't be here.

 

It was some kind of pure luck that woke Tino up in that precise instance, as if some great force had intervened on the situation to save us all, to tell us that our time had not yet come.

 

The moment I felt Tino barrel roll off my shoulder and land on the floor in a crooked stance, grimacing in the mental onslaught of hallucination, we were all immediately released from the tremor. All at once, the psychic monster fell out of its trance and slumped to dry ground, body thudding in echoes through the tiled halls.

 

In that breath of time, I understood nothing of what had just happened. Nothing.

 

When I beheld the entity up close, and recognized his face as the same as Lukas, I was almost sent to mental catastrophe.

 

I couldn't believe that they had done that to him. That over the course of months, he had become a monster. Some kind of a psychic demon, far from the peaceful person I once knew him to be.

 

There was no naturally possible reason to explain any of it.

 

Who could be that inhumane?

 

* * *

 

A squeeze of my hand returned me to reality, there in Gil's hover-car.

 

I turned to look at Tino, and his eyes conveyed concern to mine.

 

How did he feel about all of this madness? Was he a part of the madness now too?

 

I shivered and shifted on the leather seat, crossing my legs in agitation.

 

Just who could be that inhumane?

 

XXX


	13. Bravely Defiant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to give some more depth to Tino...

So how exactly was it that those hitmen managed to track me down?

 

That was the question of the century, the one I pondered for so long during the car ride, and also the one that got me to no conclusions. It was on the front burner, as they say, while everything seemed to simmer in the background.

 

Mathias and his two buddies were conversing back and forth about their favorite kind of food, meaningless white noise to fill the background of my thoughts with.

 

I smirked at the innocent talk. They had so little to worry about in their lives, no people that wanted them dead, nothing to protect themselves from except hunger...

 

Damn, was I jealous. I wanted back into that bubble of comfort, the same one from before I got to this wretched speck of human settlement.

 

I locked eyes with Berwald, who gave me a slightly wounded look and held my hand skittishly.

 

I wonder why.

 

Probably our conversation earlier.

 

I sighed and knocked my head back onto the window with a thud, aggravated by my spinning thoughts.

 

It's a seven minute ride, Tino, have patience.

 

Seven, if the traffic doesn't slow.

 

Seven, if the police don't pull you over.

 

Seven. Whole. Minutes.

 

And being trapped inside this can of cobium nonetheless. Trapped, nowhere to go if we get caught, back to the grinder or put up a fight, or kill more people to just be free.

 

Why couldn't my thoughts just shut up? Why couldn't I receive peace like everyone else?

 

Was it because I was a self-righteous killer? Was that the reason behind all this stupidity?

 

What utter bullshit. That, and what Alfred was talking about earlier, about me not recognizing the racism for what it was.

 

Well, wasn't that just a kick in the pants. Not only was I blindly crusading for justice, I was ignoring the facts. There was more than one reason why humans were the top of the food chain, then, on this ridiculous hypercapitalist world. Hah, perkele.

 

Of course. Aliens are bad, humans are good. But it all makes sense, too. I've rarely ever faced up against a human bodyguard, after all.

 

All the 'bad' drug dealers are alien, criminals, stereotyped and reduced to statistics. Meanwhile, jackhats like Dean Falsov continue to strut their stuff and revel in the quagmire of addicted fools they've created....

 

Motherfuckers.

 

Those sons-of-bitches are going to need a lot more than a bad afterlife to correct them, if they're really that petty and utterly demonic.

 

"Tino."

 

I looked over to Berwald again, half-unwillingly. "What?"

 

"'Re y' doin' fine?"

 

"Yeah, for now."

 

He smiled weakly at me and then returned to his usual expressionless face, mute and staring remotely forward. I studied the scars on his skin briefly, before considering my own. And then my eyes seemed to wander on their own back to the turbulent air outside the hovercar, filled with hundreds of vehicles which seemed to chop through the air like smooth butter.

 

I sighed again, rubbing my arm on one of those nicked spots on my skin. That particular cut, near my elbow, was beginning to agitate in red. It didn't hurt in the traditional sense, but more like it was sore, like when someone bangs their elbow against something in a funny way -- but the feeling lasts a long time.

 

Something like that.

 

...

 

I didn't mean to scare Lukas or Berwald. But realistically...

 

...can you really avoid something like that when you've been living like me for so long?

 

It hurts to think about it all like that, really. That I might be the one in the wrong, that I'm just acting strong and that inadvertently hurts my relationship with other people because they see me as, what, some kind of monstrous person?

 

Fuck it, honestly. If people have the audacity to want to roll with me, then they should be prepared for it, damnit. It's never a matter of pretending everything's gonna be okay, they should know that.

 

Do they know that?

 

Who am I kidding?

 

The only people I for sure have on my side are Berwald and Lukas, and maybe Eduard, too. And even then, I'm apparently so hard to cope with that I scare them too, huh?

 

And what if they decide that I'm not the same and leave me? What if I go back to being alone, and I fuck it all up and I never get a chance to have love in my life again?

 

...

 

I pinched myself to redirect from the pessimism.

 

Deep breaths Tino. Deep breaths. There's a way out of all of this.

 

You might be flying by the seat of your pants with this wilderness idea, but it's going to work, damnit. You'll fucking make it work.

 

You have to.

 

...

 

Holy shit.

 

I was wrong, it IS a matter of pretending everything's going to be okay.

 

...

 

Fuck.

 

"Tino." Berwald squeezes my hand lightly. "'R y' sure? Yer breath'n heavy."

 

There was no way to keep the quivering out of my lips as they opened. "I-I don't know." My voice barely rose to him over the engine noise.

 

He sighed and looked at me carefully. "'M here fer y'."

 

I couldn't think of anything to say, too concerned with keeping up the image of hope I gave to him. I didn't want to take it away so soon, not while it was still a possibility, and especially not just because I was finding myself in this stupid pessimistic rut.

 

I tapped his finger to acknowledge that I heard him, returning a squeeze of the hand.

 

Mental. Mental. It's all mental. Physical is something, but it's really all mental.

 

I am my own worst enemy, but I am my own best friend.

 

Deep breaths Tino. Deep.

 

In. Out.

 

In.

 

"Oh ma gods, did ya see that!? That guy did a barrel roll in his car, that's too cool!"

 

Out.

 

"I wonder what kind o' propulsion it has?"

 

In.

 

"Tino."

 

Out.

 

...

 

In...

 

...

 

Out...

 

...

 

* * *

 

...

 

...

 

Wow.

 

What's going on?

 

_An anxiety attack?_

 

...? What...?

 

_Remember what mama always says? If you can't be there for yourself, then you can't be there for others._

 

...She does say that. She always did say really wise things. I don't remember her face anymore.

 

_That's okay. She still exists within you and I._

 

You and I?

 

_I... and you._

 

Are you me?

 

_It's okay if you're confused. Everyone is confused when they talk with themselves. But it'll be alright. I promise._

 

So you're me, the Tino from...?

 

_Before the Kidnapping, yes._

 

...Tell me something, if you can. Why am I having these thoughts, that I'm weak and disillusioned?

 

_Because it's something that everyone goes through. Remember the time you forgot to lock the chicken clutch and the fox got in, out there on the tundra?_

 

The memory festers within me. I'm still so mad at myself for doing something so stupid, I could have starved Berwald to the death...

 

_You still torment yourself about the past. You need to let go, for the time is now and not then._

 

Yeah, but I am defined by the past! My character's changed because of the shit I had to go through. Do you think I had a choice in the matter? I've been tortured! I killed people, innocent or guilty! I didn't choose this life, yet here I fucking stand, trying to cope and keep living, and I....

 

_...yes? You do what?_

 

I-I tell myself that it'll all be okay! I have my family back, I have a plan, but everything I think about leads me back to the same road of doubts and twisted endings that I think up! I feel like I'm constantly fucking up everything, that I'm required to one-up everything to survive, and that just...

 

...doesn't feel like living anymore.

 

_..._

_Don't say it. You know where the path leads. So don't say anymore._

 

I don't feel like.... anymore...

 

_Do you know what you're doing to yourself? Snap out of it. Snap out of it._

_Snap._

_OUT._

 

* * *

 

When I connect back to reality, Berwald is shaking my shoulders vigorously, a riptide churning within his eyes. My skin turns up goosebumps at the sudden transfer to lucidity.

 

"TINO. SNAP OUT."

 

Without comprehending much, I vigorously nod my head, trying to refocus on something nearby, one of the leather seats, the geoscale, the door handle, anything.

 

"Hey, is he okay?" That was Mathias, I think. Someone had opened the door beside me, it was probably Mathias or one of his friends. I probably sat there for a solid minute just breathing and trying to calm my heart rate. Berwald stood to my left, in the car's doorframe.

 

I could feel his eyes, all of their eyes on me as they waited for my next move, waiting for me to get my shit together and move on with the plan, get out of the car.

 

Get out of the car. Come on, let's go.

 

I had to tell myself that. I was really mentally fucked up at the time. I'd never experienced anything like that before. Maybe I had suppressed my feelings and insecurities for so long that they bounced back when I found Berwald again. Who knows.

 

When my legs finally decided to respond, I placed a hand on Berwald's shoulder for balance and hoisted myself up and out of the seat. He steadied a hand on my hip, pulling me into a hug.

 

I let it happen, and he didn't say anything. The sun glared in my eyes, so I shifted around.

 

Mid-hug, Mathias sauntered up to me. "Should we, uh, go on without ya?"

 

I nodded weakly, my tone showing it. "Yeah. Go ask for a guy named 'Chrys'. Human, short ragged black hair, shorter than me, tell him that I called."

 

Emil nodded to me. "Will do."

 

I looked around, finding that Lukas had also stepped out and was sitting on top of the hovercar. That was okay, as long as he didn't fall off.

 

Without much other words, the rest all left, following Alfred's lead. From what I could gather of the immediate surroundings, we had parked about a block down from the shop itself, on an elevated plaza of sorts that directly overlooked one of the massive canal drains that plunged into the earth to flush out waste.

 

The barely detectable yet omnipresent stench, rank with disease, harassed my nostrils.

 

I turned my face into Berwald's neck and tried to will away all my thoughts.

 

"Wh's on yer mind?"

 

"...Doubt. Fear."

 

"Mm." He holds me tighter. "Don' worry."

 

"Easy for you to say."

 

"Trus' me. Don' worry 'bout 't."

 

"I have so many things running around in my head. You have no idea."

 

"L'ke?"

 

"I don't know, what could have been, what I've been doing wrong."

 

"'nd? I think yer strong."

 

I considered Berwald's words carefully, while watching Lukas look around from his position on the vehicle. He made eye contact and cocked his head at me, mouth edging ajar.

 

So Berwald thought, at least, that I was strong, that I am strong.

 

I really didn't want him to think there was anything wrong with me, but...

 

"Tino. Th's nothin' t' b' asham'd of."

 

"If you think so." I sighed shakily.

 

He only grunted in response to my lacking rebuttal, and rubbed a hand on my shoulders. "I'm here fer y'."

 

...

 

He was trying really hard to console me. He never really showed physical affection in public, so this was something he thought seriously about. Clearly.

 

But after some thought, I decided that I didn't want him to worry about me. So I gently pulled away.

 

"Berwald... for now, don't be so concerned about me. I don't want you to worry anymore than you normally do. What I struggle with now is a weight I need to bear, and... you can't do it for me." I fought to keep tears out of my eyes when I said that.

 

A hefty exhalation left his lips, as they curved into a subtle frown. "...well, 'f y' think so. Don' forg't who y' were, ya?"

 

I nodded morosely; he had no clue about what I was just thinking, and yet his words somehow aligned perfectly with what my subconscious was telling me.

 

And then, something nudged an idea into my head. I wasn't quite sure where it came from, but I got the idea to take his words to heart. What Berwald was saying was something more than one of concern.

 

I hugged him tighter at the revelation.

 

"Mm?"

 

"...I think it's gonna be easier than I thought. To start trusting and loving again."

 

...

 

"Mm. I 'gree."

 

* * *

 

When the three of us finally stepped into the noodle shop through the blue ocean-themed curtains, which waved in the maddening heat, it was one of incomplete chaos. Not chaos in the sense of the bad, but the true kind of chaos, or a social kind.

 

A swelling crowd surrounded a narrow group of tables. Noisy cries and yells filled the steel-framed room with seething energy and tension, where floral decor and paper lanterns paraded the environment. No attendant was seen behind the counter.

 

I raised my voice for projection. "OY, MATHIAS, EMIL! Where the HELL are you!?" I grabbed Lukas' hand to make sure I didn't lose him, and we plunged into the crowd. Berwald and I shoved past the density of customers, human and alien, who strained their necks over others to see what the hell was going down.

 

When we finally got to the table, I was actually surprised by what I saw.

 

Alfred and Mathias were in the middle of arm-wrestling. Beside Mathias' arm, a huge pile of credits gleamed in the dingy lighting, proclaiming him as the current champion.

 

Before either of them noticed us, I ushered Berwald and Lukas back into the crowd, and told them to find a good sit that wasn't swamped by people. While they did that, I scanned the area for Emil, who was fidgeting around with a hanging plant basket near the edge of the crowd.

 

My footsteps creaked over the mimicry wood flooring. "Hey." I tapped his shoulder, trying to grab his attention.

 

"AN' THAT'S ANOTHER ONE!!" Mathias cried out, as Alfred's arm was slammed down into the table. The crowd erupted into roars and cheers. "Hehe, pay up, buddy pal o' mine!"

 

Emil turned to look at me. "Oh, you're finally here?"

 

"Yeah. What's been going on?" I checked on Berwald and Lukas out of the corner of my vision, finding them across the room by the counter.

 

The albino teen scoffed and shuffled. "Honestly, we found Chrys easily enough. He said for us to wait out here and call him again only when you showed up. He disappeared into the curtains over there." I followed his leftward gaze, to a doorway that I was very much familiar with already.

 

So... he's waiting for me to make the next move? That's typical of him, always playing out events like a game of... what was it he said it was called? Shogi? Something he was found of.

 

Emil's words turned my attention back from mild musing. "And then Mathias decided it was a good decision to drag attention to himself with challenging everyone to an arm-wrestle?"

 

He scoffed again. "Uh, yeah. Pretty much."

 

I pinched my nose in exasperation. Of course he did, what else is new?

 

The drunkard called out for new contestants, jingling the handsome pile of credits in his broad palms. "Well? Anyone else want some o' this?"

 

It pissed me off that he was doing this when he should have known better. The goal was to get out without dragging attention to ourselves, but I got the impression he was trying to sabotage that.

 

And so, I thought that there was only one way to remediate this ridiculous situation and teach him a lesson.

 

I thanked Emil for letting me know, before practically shoulder-checking my way through the crowd. I received many rude complaints as I shoved aside the spectators, finally coming to Mathias' table. Alfred had vanished out of immediate sight to some place, and he still called out for rivals.

 

"Come on, there's gotta be someone else 'round who wants ma moola!"

 

During the very end of his declaration, I slammed my hand down on the table in front of him. The sound ricocheted off the table and through the room cacophonously, quieting the crowd almost instantly.

 

Mathias was intensively startled by the sudden noise, flinching where he sat. "O-Oh! Tino! Didn't see ya there! Hehehe...." He rubbed the back of his neck.

 

I sat down across from him and stared deeply into his eyes, voice coming out cold and threatening. "Just what in the name of fuck do you think you're doing?"

 

"There was a sign on tha door that said that tha place was friendly to arm-wrestlin'! So I started one up! Ta raise money, ya know?"

 

I maintained my stare and leaned right into his face. "There's only one arm-wrestling champion in this damn noodle shop. Do you know who got that sign there, drunk?"

 

He looked surprised. "Uh...who? I dunno."

 

I smiled devilishly. "Me." I shifted in my chair, placing my right arm flat on the table, another dull thud echoing off the metal frame. "I got it there."

 

Mathias shivered and considered me more intensely now. He glanced down at his pile and back up at me, a terror working itself into his expression.

 

My smile grew even broader. "Let's go, bitch. Or are you a coward in a lion's mane, as the saying goes?"

 

He twitched and looked to the crowd. The chant of 'Let's Go, Let's Go, Let's Go!' began to fill the air, the hype building again. Except this time, I was under the spotlight with him. And this time, I felt my heart beating because of crowd excitement.

 

I raised my arm on the table. "Best me, I fucking dare you."

 

Mathias ran a hand through his wild blonde hair, considering my words. He looked pensively into the distance, and then seemed to snap right back out of it. "Okay. Okay! I'll do it! Ya better prepare yerself, then!"

 

I looked into his blue eyes with a smirk.

 

"Let's do this."

 

XXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who dropped a kudos and/or bookmarked and/or commented! It means a lot to me, I'm feeling the love!!! <3


	14. Have No Shame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solidly introducing two more new characters to the universe! See if you can figure out who they are in this chapter! Both were mentioned either by name or in passing previously. :)

I blink, blink again, and then again, staring at the decor inside this strange room, distracting myself from the noise and commotion.

 

My eyes trail along the baseboards in their perusal of the environment, and then I linger on studying Berwald's face for a bit, then I'm looking at the front windows, bound in browned wood, landing upon Emil's upturned face as he leans on the wall, tables away. My eyes don't seem to want to stop.

 

So I force them to, and lay my head down on the table in front of me, fingers fiddling with the straps of the small pack I have on my back.

 

My brain continues onwards at a harsh clip, thoughts coming past me with fury and they keep going like that. I stare emptily into the hot air, waiting for Tino to come back, expecting us to continue with whatever is needed to be continued on with.

 

Whatever he has in store for Berwald and I... I trust him.

 

There is a part of me that wishes I would be more willing to speak up for myself, and yet there is another part that shows resentment towards this idea, that there is no purpose, that no one would listen to me anyway.

 

It was self-evident earlier, with how I was spoken for by Berwald. He naturally assumed that my cousin scared me, and he couldn't be wrong in the slightest. Tino is far from anything that could scare me, I know he would never actually do that to Mathias.

 

Even if I notice the way he becomes aggravated. And the way with which he lashes out with brute force and emotion -- a kind of mania.

 

Quite suddenly, the crowd goes silent in a hush, and I look to Berwald sitting next to me in confusion.

 

He seems to sense my curiosity, well enough, I can see so in those aged green eyes. I stand from the metal-coated chair, the legs scraping lightly in the shuffle.

 

Berwald places a hand on my shoulder and I pause, letting him rise as well. I wonder if he is just as curious as I am about figuring out what has happened.

 

Our feet carry us across the room, and I begin to worm my way as unobtrusively as possible through the sweaty mass of bodies. As I look behind me, Berwald has a less easy time of it, his shoulders being wider than mine.

 

Gasping grunts return my attention forward. I finally reach the center of the mass, where I find myself standing quietly right behind Mathias, and Tino is on the other side of the table.

 

They seem to be playing some kind of game that I don't understand the purpose of, and they strain their arms against one another fruitlessly. They grunt off-and-on, staring into the other's eyes with wild conviction.

 

I never remembered Tino having such muscle. And yet here he is matching his power against Mathias... I am shocked.

 

And moreover... I wonder who will come out the victor. I don't want to distract Tino, so I move as little as possible.

 

His face drips with an intense sweat, and I see his arm faintly beginning to shake with the signs of instability. My cousin's lips begin to turn up in struggle.

 

From what I can see of Mathias, I notice his shoulders beginning to droop slightly as he begins to assert superiority in the match. There's just as much of an intense sweat gathering on his own skin, with the back of his shirt becoming slightly damp.

 

I debate on whether I should move to help Tino or let Mathias win. I am about to move and make a choice, when suddenly the choice is made without my consideration.

 

Someone grabs onto my shoulder almost violently, and I gasp in surprise. I cringe internally as the noise draws the attention of Mathias, who turns his head to look. In a split second, I register in his sky-like eyes the feelings of simultaneous concern and defeat, and the notion that he instantly recognized his own mistake.

 

Tino takes advantage of the situation and turns the course of the match in his favor, gaining the upper hand over Mathias and finally slamming his arm down on the table with the great primal grunt of victory.

 

The sound of it all ripples through the air and into my bones with a furor.

 

One thought courses through my mind, as the crowd erupts into senseless cheering and hollers. I upsetted the fairness of the match, and I gave an unfair advantage to Tino. I am to blame for what just happened.

 

The hand that had been placed on my shoulder was Berwald's, I surmise, as I shove past him back out of the crowd, looking for a place to be by myself for a bit. My eyes flit left, right, and settle on the blue cloths that stream in the hot breeze of the doorway.

 

I make my exit there.

 

The sunlight blinds me before I am able to see my surroundings again. To my surprise, I discover Mathias' friends sitting on a bench nearby, smoking cigarettes and talking. They notice me and wave.

 

I am too startled to respond, so I sit on the doorstep where I stand, and try to calm the raw thoughts creeping up again from my unconscious.

 

You are to blame. You are the cause of it all. Mathias lost because of you.

 

It catches me off guard, and I lean against the door frame, the curtains catching behind my head. The hot breeze rustles through my uncut hair.

 

A great course of embarrassment is all that I feel inside of me. Nothing but raw shame.

 

Mathias had seemed... friendly... this morning, I suppose. That must be where this shame is coming from, this idea that I should oblige to not be a nuisance when he has been kind.

 

And then again... I am a psychopath, as he asked. If I gave him verbal confirmation, would that solve anything?

 

My eyes bear themselves by gaze into the concrete at my feet. And suddenly, I become keenly aware of the growling, the gnawing hunger in my belly.

 

There on the doorstep, I surmise that I should stop feeling like I must be delicate. I try to resolve myself to the harsh reality of it all, that I am a nuisance and that I must make up for that somehow, to become more helpful.

 

A shadow crosses over me as I recognize Alfred. His head blocks out the sun.

 

"Y'all okay?"

 

I shrug.

 

"....Well, alrighty. Gil and I are going back inside if you wanna follow with."

 

I nod remotely. The two of them edge past me through the curtains, and I am left all alone outside, in the turbulent heat that rises up from the cracks in the sidewalk. My ears pick up the sounds of bickering and laughs through the air behind me.

 

Just as I resolved myself to be more helpful, I resolve myself to be more involved.

 

My stomach groans yet again for sustenance, so I stand and go back inside.

 

I am immediately confronted by Tino, who scans me all over to make sure nothing has happened. "Are you doing okay? Did something happen??"

 

I shake my head and point to my stomach.

 

He nods and smiles in agreement. "I'm hungry too, Lukas. Once we get business squared away, we can all eat some noodles, yeah?" He holds one of my hands and squeezes it lightly, which I reciprocate in appreciation.

 

While I follow Tino, shadowing him as he rounds up everyone, I am suddenly struck by another wonder -- how do I know what noodles are?

 

There are a great many things I have never seen before, like the wet metal box and the mysterious fruit smell, but I know that I have never rightly heard the word 'noodles' before, and yet I can picture them in my mind, clear as sunlight, warm and delicious.

 

My mouth waters incessantly at the idea of true nutritious food. When was the last time I ate something that wasn't in a pill or mush?

 

* * *

 

"Seventeen. Eat it."

 

I stare sullenly at the woman who sits before me, my supervisor. I can never tell if her smile belies a hidden malevolence, or if it is made for the sake of positive appearance. Her skin and hair contrast against the sterile white of the laboratory.

 

"We can't keep running the tests and improving you if you don't eat it."

 

I turn my gaze from the bowl, with its plastic spoon, up to her directly. Defiance is what I radiate.

 

She sighs, voice cracking in desperation, and fidgets with the flower pin in her long hair. "Listen, you're going to die if you don't get something in your belly. You're not superhuman... yet. You need to give the psi-techs a chance and keep your physical strength up."

 

My hands idle on the metal table, on top of a dent that another subject caused several days ago, in both frustration and despair.

 

I remain staring into her lively eyes, conscious of the electric band around my neck that keeps me from speaking and expressing autonomy. The green soup in the bowl smells offensive to my nostrils, churning up my stomach.

 

My supervisor frowns. Then, to my panic, she reaches for her communicator and talks into it.

 

"Mm, yes, this is Michelle. Ideal Seventeen refuses to eat its nutrition supplement. We need to start considering alternatives."

 

I pick up the spoon and try to eat the contents of the bowl as fast as I can mentally manage, fighting the urge to gag as I swallow down the disgusting 'supplement'.

 

I know what she's doing, and I dare not call her bluff. I've seen what she means by alternatives. For every subject that loses the will to survive, they take them away, never to be seen again, and replace them with another healthy subject from the mines or elsewhere, until the cycle is repeated.

 

It gets to me every time she does this.

 

So I eat the mush, fearful of the consequences.

 

She smiles again. "Oh, false alarm! Looks like Seventeen changed its mind!" Her gloved hand pockets away the communicator.

 

Having finished the contents of the bowl, she takes me back to my room. After wishing me a restful night for more scientific advancements tomorrow, the supervisor leaves with an foreign tune humming from her lips.

 

The moment she turns my room's light switch off in the hall, and all goes dark save the floor lights, I stumble to my bathroom.

 

In the darkness, I locate the toilet and work my stomach to upchuck the vile soup. The acrid smell hits my nostrils like a brick wall, and afterwards I lay dizzily on the bathroom floor, the darkness somehow managing to spin all around me.

 

My head pounds, and I drag my way back through the open door to my bed, which seems massively tall now. It takes all of my strength to raise myself, and I barely make it onto the sheets before my muscles collapse again from malnutrition.

 

I wonder how long I will last like this, I think, as my eyes close into dreamless sleep.

 

* * *

 

The wretched memory burns in me as I recall the supervisor, and the lab's regimen of semi-toxic soup.

 

Luckily, I am able to refocus outward, as Tino has gathered everyone. I notice that most of that earlier crowd has disappeared, leaving a few stragglers sitting at tables here and there.

 

My cousin's voice resonates through the room pointedly. "Alright. That distraction aside...." He stares Mathias down raggedly for a moment before continuing. "...Let's get this done so we can scatter before sundown."

 

With some kind of sinking feeling in my chest, I examine the now rugged expression on Mathias' face. He avoids my gaze entirely, staring sullenly at the floor. Is this guilt that I feel?

 

"OH! Hey dude, what's good?!"

 

Alfred's rambunctious tone causes me to snap up, and I take in the sight of yet another stranger.

 

The short man before me has a very well-kept bowl cut, and wears a robe bearing a yellow floral pattern on black background. He bears a dignified air, odd as that is to say. His almond eyes consider us all with... gentleness? Or something of that ilk.

 

Gil barks out a laugh. "Yo Chrys! What's up bro??"

 

The stranger bows. "Greetings, all."

 

Tino moves to stand by Chrys, pausing, and then leans in to whisper something into his ear.

 

A light of recognition crosses his irises, and he straightens up his posture, and tightens the gilded sash around his waist. "Ah. This is your family, correct?"

 

Tino nods. "That's my fiance, Berwald. And this is my cousin, Lukas."

 

Berwald narrows his eyes minimally. I avoid Chrys' looks at the both of us, staring instead at the wall.

 

The robed man chuckles. "Your family is very similar to you, Winter Sniper." He turns to Alfred and Gil next. "You two order the waksei ramen consistently, yes? I know your faces."

 

Gil nods with a toothy grin, his white hair shivering with the motion. "Oh yeah bro, you done got it down!"

 

Chrys' small frame rumbles with another chuckling session. "Indeed. But this man..." He motions to Mathias and Emil, who stands aside from all of us still. "...this man and boy I have not seen before today."

 

Alfred claps Mathias on the shoulder. "This is my broski, Mathias! He loves noodles just as much as we do, trust me! It's just that he never goes with us here 'cause his schedule's wonked."

 

Mathias smiles weakly up at Chrys, then continues to look down at the floor.

 

Tino leans again to whisper something in Chrys' ear, looking out of the corner of his eye to Emil.

 

"...Are you certain of this, Winter Sniper?" He seems to consider my cousin with incredulousness and worry. "He is the very same?"

 

Tino nods simplistically. Chrys sighs gracefully in response. His sandaled feet clatter across the floor, and he beckons us all to follow him. "Come, come. We have much to exchange and little time."

 

We exit the room through the back curtains, which are featureless and dull, thinned from years of usage.

 

Behind the drapery, a staircase leads downwards to a basement, encased in cool concrete. The darkness seems to procure a slight mildew smell, as feet echo and creak down the stairs. Berwald's frame is barely narrow enough to fit through the staircase, and I can hear Mathias behind me complaining about how cramped the space is.

 

"Patience friends." Chrys utters at the head of the group.

 

It is not a few seconds before we reach the encased basement, which has one singular spherical window on the closest wall. Multiple crates in neat rows fill the space. Chrys leads us far down one of the rows, where he opens a crate to his left. To my surprise, the crate appearance is a facade, and there's a ladder that descends further into the foundation.

 

"Please go down here. I will return shortly with good tea." Then Chrys disappears around the corner, leaving us there.

 

Alfred and Gil look at each other with uncertainty. "I've never seen this part of the shop, Gil, you think it's trapped?"

 

Tino curses under his breath. "Just do what the man said and be respectful, dingus. Get your asses down there or I'll do it for you."

 

Gil shrugs. "Okay, shit, I'll get on that..."

 

I watch as first Gil, then Alfred, then Berwald descend down the ladder, step by step, precariously into the dim lighting below. Tino looks to me, and beckons me next.

 

My fingernails clip along the metal, hands grasping the coolness of the metal cautiously, recalling a lab trial that involved electrocution. I stare up at Tino skeptically, and he smiles back at me. "It'll be okay, Lukas."

 

I tentatively rest my weight on the metal, then descend down in the path of the others.

 

My arms are sore and fatigued by the time I finish my descent, though it was just a short distance. The secret room is well decorated, and yet sparse. Paintings hang on the walls, depicting minimalist oceans.

 

Something in the artwork calms me immensely, and I must fight to keep myself from being distracted.

 

There's a keen sound, and Tino slides down the ladder after all of us, gloved hands clapping together when he reaches the bottom. "Cool. Now we wait."

 

I sit between Berwald and Mathias at an ornate table, which dominates the center of the room. The others take seat as well, and we stare at each other in silence.

 

It occurs to me, suddenly, that I am a fugitive. Somehow, it becomes fully weighted in that precise moment that I am escaping with Tino and Berwald, and the others. The thought that I might never see the lab -- that lab -- again, it fills me with so much...

 

...delight.

 

I rest my head on my arms, looking at Mathias out of the corner of my vision. His posture remains something that expresses defeat, and that confuses me.

 

I think he should be happy, since that is what I've seen of him so far.

 

So, I think, I will try to cheer him up.

 

My hand slowly inches towards his arm, so that he will not notice.

 

I am so close to touching his skin, but...

 

I tense up as there's a sound from the ladder.

 

Everyone turns their heads to see who it is, and I feel relief as the familiar frame of Chrys emerges from the chute, carrying a tray with multiple cups and a pitcher. He sets it down on the elegantly patterned table in front of us, and stands amicably. "Before we begin talk, I would like to be a good host and serve food."

 

Tino nods. "If you'd rather get that done before the other business, sure."

 

Chrys bows. "Is there request for noodle types?"

 

"As long as everything's on the house!" Alfred grins. "Waksei, please!"

 

Gil hooks an arm around his friend. "Waksei is the bomb, yo."

 

Mathias looks up sheepishly. "Do ya have a menu? Sorry I don't know tha place so well..."

 

Chrys smiles, taking a thick folder out of the fold of his robe. He passes it down to the blonde, who opens it.

 

I stare in amazement at the animated pictures inside, screen aglow with foreign letters and quaint color scheme. Mathias taps a tab near the top right of one page, and suddenly the whole configuration changes to words that I can read.

 

He skims for a brief moment, then hums contentedly. "Tha hoshi bowl!" His fingers pass the thick electronic menu to me, and I marvel at all the options, unsure of which to choose.

 

I look up to Berwald for guidance, and he blinks. "What d' y' want?"

 

My face contorts into confusion as I scan the options, most of the ingredients being utterly unheard of to me. My eyes settle on one of the selections marked 'Sushi Hybrid', with one item calling for tuna and a strange looking green fruit. I point to this one and show Chrys.

 

"Old Earth California. Certainly." He affirms. I sigh in relief and relax in my chair.

 

I pass the folder to Berwald and Tino, who look at each other without words. Berwald shrugs and mutters something, and Tino chuckles. "Okay, Ber and I will have the California too."

 

Finally, Emil takes one look at the menu, and oddly sets it away. He sighs and leans back in his chair, seemingly appalled. "Sorry, I'm not hungry right now."

 

Chrys nods silently and stashes the folder in his robe, disappearing back up the ladder.

 

I consider Emil's reaction to the menu carefully, before deciding that it must have been something outside of my range of knowledge. Tino shoots him a look, snapping that it's rude to refuse free food.

 

I ignore my cousin's anger, and study my hands instead. To think that I might be free... and that I finally might get to eat something truly nourishing again...

 

...it is absolutely thrilling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Little tidbit trivia about the name of the meals ~~~
> 
> I got 'waksei' from the Japanese word 'wakusei', 'planet'.  
> 'Hoshi' is just the Japanese word for 'star'.
> 
> A lot of the food on Chrys' menu is inspired around a hybrid between extraterrestrial ingredients and Asian cooking. :)


	15. Memory Dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have a longer chapter, this time we get a bit funky...

There was something almost odd about it all. I couldn't make any sense of it. The shivering feeling of misplacement in the air... maybe it was the oriental and minimal decor, or the fact that Chrys sent us to a hidden room.

 

I didn't like the setting. It felt claustrophobic.

 

And you know what? It had been a strange day up until that point anyway, so it wouldn't surprise me anyway if we were suddenly attacked by some random people again.

 

I rested my forehead on a propped arm.

 

Well... let's see.

 

There was Lukas this morning. Then I made breakfast. Then Gil popped up with Al really fast, and they were somehow willing to help me with this conundrum, thank gods. And then being forced to leave my place....

 

I thought about my bag, sitting out in Gil's car. I knew that I was so reluctant to not bring a lot of stuff. I didn't want to leave any of it, yeah, that's true. But especially, there was one thing I made sure I brought with me. In a way, I thought, that single hairpin was the catalyst for all of this. I made sure it was kept safe in that cobium lock-box buried deep in my bag.

 

I'm pretty sure if I didn't buy that clip, none of this wouldn't have ever happened. None.

 

I scrutinized the wood grain of the table, something that was actually genuine and not fake plastic. My eyes ventured into the ceramic cup in front of me, holding what I guess was some kind of greenish tea.

 

Out of the corner of my gaze, I saw the very edge of Lukas' arm as he rested his head on the table. I studied the complexion of his hair, massed and uncut on the back of his head. Pale, like something I had seen before.

 

Was it possible that he...?

 

The chair creaked beneath me as I shifted my weight to lean back. I wasn't intending it to get Lukas' attention, but I guess it did anyway. He rolled his head the other way to look up at me, hair hanging in his eyes.

 

...maybe it was possible. That he's the exact same person. The very same from my memories.

 

No, wait, I'm damn sure it was a girl though...

 

...

 

And something about his expression was just so damn mysterious. Like I could never tell if he was feeling happy or sad. It was easy enough with Berwald and Tino and the like, but Lukas was on a whole 'nother level of poker face.

 

It was almost like he was still hiding from me.

 

But shit, then there was that whole shenanigan earlier, Tino being an asshat and using streetwise over my distraction. I honestly thought that was him using Lukas as a way to get me to lose, I really do.

 

It just wasn't right. And I guess I don't really understand why Lukas suddenly bolted after Tino won.

 

I... I just hope that I don't develop a grudge over that whole thing. Not against Tino, even if he's really rude sometimes, and especially not against Lukas, since it was my fault I got distracted.

 

It was just....stupid.

 

I suddenly realized that I was still staring at Lukas. It was especially awkward because he was still staring back at me too. I wonder what he was thinking.

 

His head shifted a little to look at me more directly, hair blocking his eyesight. I tried to be polite and stop from staring anymore, but it was so hard.

 

Damn, what's so difficult? Let him have his personal space, Mathias, you're being just a bit creepy!

 

...But everyone else was chatting away or distracted with their own stuff. Why couldn't I be too? And was that so wrong if what distracted me was another person? I've slept with people before, just LOOKING at people should be beyond comfortable, right?

 

I nodded my head. Sound reason. I was never in the fault to begin with.

 

Satisfied, I turned back to Lukas, shocked to find that he had vanished from his seat. In the next moment, I found him standing next to Berwald and Tino, holding his arms out. They seemed to understand something I didn't, and got out of their seats.

 

And then they all hugged each other, in silence. I thought it was awesome that they were all reunited as a family, but a little tiny bit of me felt a heartache for it.

 

Yeah, I had family, I guess, if you count Gil and Alfred. But I didn't really have... blood relatives. I would give anything to have someone for a blood brother, or a sister, or even a grandpa would have been cool, but it just couldn't happen.

 

Life doesn't work that way. I get constantly reminded of that.

 

I pulled myself up by my bootstraps to this point in life. Seeing that Tino and Berwald have each other again, and seeing Lukas with them, it gave me hope and yet despair at the same time.

 

And then I considered Emil. He had family, sort of, even if that family was gonna try and kill him.

 

Better than nothing...

 

...

 

Well, maybe that's not better than nothing, I shouldn't consider that. But he had people, still.

 

And Al's got his twin brother Mattie and Gil's got a pretty awesome big bro, Lud, but I don't have anyone.

 

I don't really have anyone who's my family.

 

I don't.

 

The sleeve of Lukas' arm brushed up against mine, and I looked at him again, mustering a smile on my face. He noticed after sitting back down and stared up in confusion at me.

 

It made me grin even harder, as I looked into his deep eyes, as if they were perpetually shaded and completely resistant to all light. Darkness.

 

"Heya..." I said quietly, studying his face. "I wanted ta say somethin'."

 

He nodded slightly, and I took that as a good thing.

 

"I'm sorry fer... fer earlier. 'Bout what I said before tha crash. Ya know?"

 

Lukas looked confused.

 

"Um... I didn't mean ta say ya were psychotic. I feel really bad 'bout it. A-An' earlier, tha thing with Tino, I'm not mad at ya."

 

He looked especially surprised by what I said. I hope I didn't spook him too bad, but he quickly reverted back to his normal expressionless face. I watched him study his hand for a moment, wondering what his thoughts were.

 

Then Lukas turned to me again, his pale hair shivering in the slight draft of the hidden room. He extended a frail hand out to me, imploring.

 

I wondered what it could mean. Was he wanting something? Oh!

 

Oh, oh! He's repeating what I showed him this morning!

 

He remembered!!!

 

At the realization, I couldn't keep the huge smile off my face, and I held my hand out slowly as well, trying not to scare him. "Is this what ya want?" I surprised myself with how timid I spoke.

 

He nodded again, and I watched his fingers meet mine slowly, but with purpose. They felt cool and dry on the sweatiness of my palms, and delicate to the touch despite the uncut nails. They traced a pattern on my palm once, twice, then Lukas looked up at me again.

 

Before I could register what was happening, some kind of memory surfaced almost explosively to my mind.

 

* * *

 

Wind shifts around me, cold and unforgiving, as if it is somehow actively trying to tear my skin off. There is the smell of dirt everywhere, and people are about the area with pickaxes of some kind. In front, there's a huge red tent of some kind, and a woman I've not seen before sits inside on a white folding chair.

 

I notice a fence along a ridge on my left, where a young man seems to stand and peer down, leaning along the fence, blonde hair seemingly unaffected by the gale.

 

But wait.

 

I know who that is!

 

That's me! That's my coat!

 

What's going on here??!!

 

I blink, and suddenly I'm looking through the fence, and I can see clearly, like a crystal, it's her! I know that face!

 

But there's something unnervingly strange about all this, as she begins to climb up the hill to me, and I see her form sharpen, the rags becoming clear, the dirty pale hair becoming more distinct, and suddenly I can't believe my eyes and what they see.

 

I blink, and suddenly I'm on the other side of the fence, looking at myself, but now I have cuts, and older, and baggy eyes, and I'm not in a winter coat.

 

Blink and it's switched back, now the fence is gone, and I just can't believe what I see.

 

The wind whips at her hair, eyes open to reveal deep midnight blue, I'm suddenly stricken by an intense feeling of nostalgia, longing, and simple euphoria rolled into a timeless moment.

 

Is this a memory? Because I don't ever think I got to see her up close. I am REALLY sure of that.

 

She holds her arms up, frail pale dirty hands, holding away the wind so I can see her face clearly, and I can viscerally feel my body shaking with anticipation, like my soul is vibrating to break free, like... like...

 

Like I'm on an entirely different plane of existence...

 

And she holds back her hair, and I see that jawline and I instantly know, I instantly KNOW who she is, holy fuck.

 

I know her.

 

No....

 

I know HIM.

 

I feel myself drowning in confusion, struggling to connect the dots even when things are oh so seemingly clear, I can feel myself falling, I try to grab on and hold on to the memory, to look more, to stay in the moment, but I feel myself slipping into the black of my unconscious.

 

I scream for help but she doesn't answer me.

 

* * *

 

When I woke up, I realized that I was on the floor somewhere. Then everything clicked again and I remembered that I was in the basement of the noodle shop. Emil was squatting in front of me as he rummaged through his satchel for something.

 

The cement was bitterly cold against my cheek. I grunted and the kid startled to standing. "HOLY SHIT!"

 

I heard Tino's voice hovering somewhere above me, curious and confused. "What the fuck happened Mathias!? You fell out of your chair and started shaking!"

 

There was a numbing migraine coming from the back of my head as I sat up on the cement flooring, and I swore under my breath at the soreness of my knees. "Damn, I don't even know what just... ugh..."

 

Berwald handed me a cloth, and I stared at him in confusion. He eventually cleared his throat. "Y' have a n'sebleed."

 

Did I? Wouldn't be unusual, I guess, especially if I hit my head.

 

I dabbed the ragged cloth at my nose, still surprising myself with the fact that it came up pretty red with blood. I pulled myself up and sat back in my chair, just a little dizzy.

 

I drank some tea with a shaking hand, thinking that it might help somehow, even if it was bitter as hell. My hand struggled to hold the cloth to my nose.

 

I met the enormously shocked and concerned gazes of my buds too, and Alfred spoke up.

 

"Well I thought you were gonna die bro, you had me so fucking scared..."

 

I coughed. "I still don't really understan' what happened..."

 

Gil furrowed his light eyebrows, running a hand through his choppy hair. "Yo ass just passed out and had a seizure for some fucking reason, I don't get it none either..." Al nodded in agreement.

 

And even then, when I turned to Lukas next to me, he was staring blankly down at the table, and refused to match my gaze again. It was almost as if...

 

...we had never had that interaction in the first place.

 

A wave of emotional shock rolled through me at the possibility, and I sipped at more bitter liquid to steady myself, for what it was worth.

 

Thank gods Chrys came into the room sooner rather than later, with the food. Surely, if there was one thing I could stomach at the moment, it was something delicious.

 

His arms gracefully laid down a multitude of bowls on the table in front of each of us.

 

"Two waksei, one hoshi, three California." And then his sly gaze turned to Emil. "Are you certain that you do not want something?"

 

Emil nodded his head, frowning. "Yeah. Don't worry about it."

 

Chrys furrowed his eyebrows. "Then we must speak."

 

Tino took a glance briefly at me before responding. "You know what I came here for, then." The emotion in his eyes was more resolute than anything.

 

Chrys nodded, taking out a package from his robes. I averted my gaze, thinking it would be something treacherous, but it was just some chopsticks. He slid each pair with precision to us, and then took up a cup and a chair by Emil. "Indeed, Winter Sniper, that I do."

 

Tino leaned over his bowl, wafting up the smell with a calloused hand. "Then... you've got some explaining to do. Especially to the others."

 

Our host nodded his head, and quietly sipped at his tea, pausing, waiting. "Eat some first."

 

I fetched up the chopsticks in front of me, trying to remember how to hold them. I looked to Gil and Al for some kind of guidance since they were regulars, shaping my fingers around the plastic sticks. The sounds of eating filled the room soon enough.

 

Once I got the hang of things down and noodles didn't slip out of my grasp every time, I was able to enjoy the flavor. It was actually really salty. Little vegetable slices on the surface of the dark broth mimicked a starry sky. The reddish noodles seemed to contribute to the space-like appearance of it all. I ended up getting really impatient and just sipped down the bowl's contents instead of using the chopsticks, especially because they fell out of my hand more than once.

 

When I was almost done with my noodles, that was when Chrys finally spoke again.

 

"...my name is a lie."

 

Gil gave him a weird look over the rim of his bowl, trying to clear his mouth as fast as possible to speak. "...Wha???"

 

"My name is not what you think it is. Chrys. That is not me."

 

I looked to Tino, feeling like something big was about to happen. The saltiness of the noodles seemed to spike in my mouth. Tino only sat and ate though, and didn't pay any attention to what was going on.

 

My mouth opened seemingly by itself. "Then...what's yer real name?"

 

"My true name...is Kiku." He spoke with some kind of bitter reverence, as if it was poison on his lips.

 

Emil shot up to standing, shaking the table slightly. His boots made an abrasive sound against the concrete flooring. The albino's ruddy eyes were absolutely wild. "You!? But I thought you were dead!!!" The words tumbled over each other in frenzy, and I almost couldn't figure out what he had just said.

 

Amidst the confusion that my face, that most of our faces showed to him, Chrys -- Kiku nodded. "But I am very much alive, as you can see. Yao cannot be rid of those who he cannot outwit."

 

I watched Emil's expression remain in constant shock as he slowly sat back down. "But Yao said he executed you! He said that you betrayed him in the highest offense..." His gaze narrowed. "And back then, he also said you killed Mei!"

 

What was all this? Did Emil know who Kiku was already? He seemed to talk with some kind of familiarity...

 

"Mei?" Tino's voice released into the tense air. "Who's that, Emil? Kiku?"

 

So there were some things Tino didn't know either. I didn't know what to make of that, so I simply nodded in agreement. "Ya, who is that?"

 

Kiku stared distantly into one of the ocean-themed paintings hanging on the walls. "She was the daughter of Yao once upon a time, but she decided to defect, as was the sane choice once his own sanity left him. Mei..."

 

Emil picked up where Kiku trailed away. "She had apparently stolen something important. I don't remember much since it happened when I was way younger, but it absolutely sent Yao livid. He, uh, he told all of his henchmen that she had ruined the family honor. And he was gonna..."

 

The albino swallowed hesitantly, a mist beginning to form over his eyes. "...he threatened to kill his youngest, Leon, over it."

 

Kiku laid a hand consolingly on Emil's shoulder. "I know that was a confusing time for you, Emil. It was for me, too."

 

The albino barely spoke above a whisper, voice shaky. "Can you finish?"

 

I didn't know about Yao at all, but the way Emil was talking about him made him seem like an absolute monster.

 

If I ever met him, I was going to absolutely deck his face!

 

The shorter black-haired man drank his tea before picking up the tale. As he did, I watched my buds' faces and how they looked confused and horrified.

 

"It is true that he used Leon as a way to manipulate Mei. Yao knew that Mei was the closest of all of us to Leon. He sent me as the messenger for his ultimatum, and I was faced with a dilemma, a dilemma of whom to select to live." Kiku paused, coughing quietly into his sleeve.

 

After another intake of tea, he sighed. "I, being more aware, chose the option that I knew would fool Yao. I faked my own death."

 

Tino opened his mouth to speak, having consumed a large bite of noodles, but Kiku beat him to the punch. "Please let me finish, Winter Sniper. When I went to Mei, I made sure to go with Yong Soo. We had Mei trapped in a dangerous location, and Yong Soo suggested that I rush forward to grab her before she leaped off the edge of the platform. This gave me an idea, since I knew Mei was not the type to glorify suicide."

 

Kiku's tone suddenly became dark, and a shiver went down my spine. "So it was that I dashed forward to 'beat her to her demise'. I knew the area more than Yong Soo or Mei, and I remembered that there was a canal of water directly beneath us. So when I dashed, I let her panicked reaction and struggle carry us off the ledge into the water."

 

When he finished, I took the chance to look down at the cloth in my hand, and thank gods the blood had stopped from my nose. It all laid ragged and red in my hand, mysterious and... well, bloody.

 

Emil suddenly lit up again. "It all makes sense now... I remember Yong Soo coming back and saying that you both had died... So neither of you did?!"

 

Kiku's lips upturned in a small smile. "At the time, yes. I don't know her fate right now, but I know that she is very much a resilient woman. And she passed what she had stolen on to me."

 

Tino leaned in closer, intensely listening. "So where is it? What is it?" I watched Berwald place his gaze on his fiance carefully.

 

The host pulled out another, yet smaller package than before, holding it in both of his hands tightly. "The contents of this package are horrendous. It must absolutely not see the light of day, and it must not be shown to anyone who is not ready for it."

 

He placed it cautiously on the table, hands resting on top of the nano-fiber mesh. "When I saw this, what Mei had stolen, one of Yao's many secrets... I do not know what words to use. It was a feeling of utter defeat, as if I was no longer significant. Beyond social belonging. I felt as if I was a puppet on a string. Ignorance truly is bliss."

 

Alfred coughed into his hand. "So just tell us what it is, then you won't have to show it to us, right?"

 

Kiku looked morosely at my best bud. "Words can convey the appearance and simultaneously fail to grasp the meaning, my friend."

 

Tino sighed. "Right, Kiku, so if you can't open it for us or explain this... thing of Yao's, what you have... then why take it out in the first place?" Berwald's fiance tapped his fingers angrily on the table.

 

Before much else happened, Kiku had slid the nano-fiber package oh so carefully to his left, in the completely open space in front of Emil. I watched hesitantly as the teen's eyes widened, the irises gleaming with anticipation and dread.

 

"Emil. When I parted ways with Mei, and I spoke with her, and what she told me about how she felt about you... I know deep in my soul that she wants you to be the carrier of her efforts. If she trusts you, then so do I."

 

Emil was quick to stammer in response. "I-I'm not a hero. I don't know what the hell you're expecting from me, but that isn't it. I can't do what you want me to."

 

There was an almost unnerving pause after he spoke, broken by Kiku. "...I did not think that I could hunt Mei, and yet neither she nor I died in that fateful encounter. It is with this reasoning that I believe you can bear the package on your young shoulders."

 

The pale teen stared down at the secret item with a shivering and despondent gaze, lips quivering in fear. "I don't want to do it.... and besides, Yao's already trying to track my ass down. If he catches me, this just gets back to him."

 

"It is never as you think it is, Emil." Kiku shook his head, seemingly discouraged by the kid's stubborn streak. And then... more silence.

 

Well, if it wasn't as Emil thought it was, then what was it that he -- that all of us -- were still missing? There we were with this mystery package of some kind passed on by Kiku's sister, Emil was freaked out, Tino was dying to know what the hell it all means...

 

...I bet Gil and Al felt just as utterly confused like me at that point. I didn't blame them.

 

My head was swimming in so many thoughts, trying to wrap my head around Kiku's weird way of talking, trying to come to grips with my headache and my nosebleed and whatever the hell just happened to me on the floor, and why Lukas wouldn't look me in the eyes....

 

And moreover, I panicked when I first figured it out, but I realized doubt in that moment.

 

Was I getting too far over my head with helping these guys escape?

 

Was I having second thoughts?

 

...

 

You're damn right I was.

 

XXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my readers for... well, reading! If you're still reading this far into the story, I must be doing something right, right? (...Right?)
> 
> Anyways, thanks again!!! Please comment at-will as always~~


	16. To Be Left Behind

I couldn't help but feel acute concern for Emil, who sat a couple chairs away stiff as a mining rod. If the conversation earlier with Tino wasn't hard enough for him, then I couldn't begin to imagine what this argument with Kiku would turn out.

 

"What do you mean, 'It's never like I think it is'??!! I know what he's capable of, Kiku! I don't want to be tortured, I don't want to have to kill one of my friends just to live on, I just don't want to deal with any of this SHIT RIGHT NOW!" He slammed his hand down hard on the table, and I almost jumped out of my skin at the sudden gesture.

 

All of our bowls and cups rattled at the impact. Tino's cup spilled and pale transleucent tea began to seep out onto the wood surface. It reminded me all too grimly of a certain memory, vaguely too much for my own liking.

 

Tears ran out from the albino teen's eyes like a heaving stream, possessed with stress and grief. Emil truly wore his heart on his sleeve.

 

His words emerged through confined lips, fighting, shaking. "...I... I don't want to take it."

 

I wondered if he meant the package or the stress.

 

Maybe he meant both.

 

My fiance stood his cup upwards on the wood, staring grimly at the lost beverage. One of his hands reached forward and dragged a forefinger through the clear liquid. "If he won't take it, Kiku, then I can. We're both going to the same place anyway." His finger isolated a heavy drop on the surface of the wood.

 

The raven-haired host sighed and folded his arms into his robe, I guessed as a thoughtful gesture. I took up a sip of my own bitter drink, reminded that it was there. My food sat half-eaten in its bowl, which I chalked up to an irritated stomach.

 

I watched as my fiance continued to toy with the spilled tea on the table, his voice always level. "That's the reason why we're here, you know. All seven of us are heading up to the hills in the northwest to camp out, wait out the shitstorm that just came up. You saw the news this morning?"

 

To my surprise, Mathias jumped in to add some points. "Ya, did ya see what happened down at tha mines? That's why Gil an' Alfred an' I are here! We're helpin' these guys!"

 

In the middle of Mathias' addendum, I looked around at everyone's faces to get a reading of the atmosphere. Emil was still distraught and Kiku looked dismayed. I couldn't for the life of me figure out what was going through Tino's head at the moment, given what went down in the car and the restaurant above us.

 

Gil had a grim smirk on his face, something I read as impatience, and Alfred seemed to be zoning out at something behind me. Mathias was seemingly back to his perky self, despite falling out of his chair and hitting his head. That rag.... he could keep it. There was too much blood on it for me to take it back, and it wasn't a really important item for me anyway, just a spare.

 

Lukas still sat beside me, his head laid down on his arms upon the table. I realized that throughout this entire conversation, he had never lifted his head or moved, so I silently tapped his elbow.

 

"An' in addition, we're gonna be out there fer four days! I think it's gonna be cool!"

 

He shifted, moving his head only enough to make eye contact with me, and then he laid his head back down. At least he was still awake. And he had eaten all of his food, which was good.

 

I didn't pay his stillness much attention. After all, it was a regular part of Lukas' personality.

 

"Oh! An' also we're gonna pretend that we're their hostages!!! Which is why we came here, ya see! I think! That's tha story, right Tino??"

 

My fiance looked up glaringly at Mathias. "Yeah. You explained it so well, I might just kiss your ass for it."

 

Mathias grinned widely and wiped his nose again. "Heehee."

 

...I don't think he understood that as sarcasm.

 

Tino continued. "So yeah. We came here because I knew you owed me from that one favor. And what we need is some arms and ammo. A decent amount, enough to get us through, know what I mean?"

 

Kiku nodded solemnly. "I understand well, Winter Sniper. It is why I brought you down to this specific room." He rose from his chair, leaving the package in front of Emil, who continued to seeth down at it. Perpetuated grief seemed to establish itself in the teen's downturned gaze.

 

The host walked over to the wall's edge near the ladder shaft, lifting up a wooden panel at about his eye height. There was quite a sudden whirring in the walls all around us, and the huge paintings regressed away to reveal crevasses and nooks, shelving established within the seemingly bleak and cool cement foundation.

 

Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Lukas startle from the sudden noise, and he clung onto my arm, I think as a reflex.

 

My jaw would have dropped if it could have. There were all manners of supplies and weapons jammed into the nooks, and surely the vast majority of it was important in some way to justify a hiding spot like this room.

 

....Perhaps even illegal.

 

"I want you all to realize that you are free to take stock of this in whatever way you please, because you are in the direct company of one of my most trusted friends." Kiku looked directly at Tino. "This is sufficient?"

 

Now it was my fiance who stood from his seat. He closed his eyes and bowed humbly at the waist to our host. "Thank you for holding your end of the deal, Kiku. I may never see you again after this all goes down, so I want you to know that you've been a great help and you've done some fantastic legwork for me to finally be free again."

 

Kiku bowed briefly in response. "It is my pleasure." And then he merely sat down again and sipped at his own tea.

 

Tino turned to all of us, who were clearly dumbstricken by the sudden sight of so many lethal devices at once. "Get on with it and choose your stuff, it's what you all were wanting anyway, right? We're gonna leave after this."

 

Amidst the small talk that began to crop up all around me, I walked around the room to take a glimpse of everything. There were small guns and longer ones, some that had thick barrels, and some that had thin ones. Some were labelled as laser-based, some as the older bullet variety. Nothing really appealed to my taste.

 

I suppose I really didn't relish the notion of taking someone's life in such a.... simple fashion. I wanted them to be able to suffer more for their crimes or wrongdoings.

 

My thoughts turned in brevity to the mines, turning over this morning's events in my head. I wondered if any of the overseers, like the one that tortured me last night, were caught in the blast as well.

 

I wondered, then, if the violence and the tragedy there would change their minds... but then again...

 

I know all too well that there is no such thing as an easy solution.

 

While I was looking at the back of one pistol, testing the grip, Kiku walked up next to me. "May I speak with you for a moment?" I nodded, setting the pistol down.

 

He looked up at me. "You seem to be having a difficult time with finding something to suit you, and I would like your permission to make a suggestion."

 

Kiku struck me overwhelmingly as a sensible person, so I nodded.

 

"Perhaps you should seek out a different kind of weapon. One that is not a gun, perhaps." He lifted a robed arm, pointing across the room to a revealed shelf filled with various melee weapons.

 

"Wh't 're they?"

 

He tipped his head. "Some of them are cobium staves and some are smaller, such as the so-called 'dusters'. Then again, there is one among these that I think may appeal to your senses. Come with me."

 

I wondered what he could possibly mean by this statement. There was something presumptuous about the way he drew my attention away from the guns.

 

I followed Kiku over nonetheless, giving him the benefit of the doubt. I passed Gil and Al, who seemed to ogle at all the technology with hungry eyes and mouths agape, marveling in their own unique way about the stash before them.

 

The short host stopped before a blocky case, brown and dusty with age and wear. I admitted quietly in my head that I frankly wouldn't have looked at the item on my own initiative. My gaze stared silently down at it, imploring to know the contents.

 

Kiku seemed to sense my curiosity, and he slid the case down from a shelf that was higher than his shoulders, at about my chest level. Much rattling was produced this way, almost like the case was a bizarre kind of.... building kit?

 

My suspicions seemed to prove themselves true. Kiku opened the case, first the metallic hatch on the side, and then weak locks on the short ends, and heaved it onto a more manageable shelf. The whole display made quite a thud, and he nonchalantly raised the lid to reveal the contents to my eyes.

 

"This kit was equipment that was left behind in the shop during the Festival last year." His eyes combed steadily over the intricate metal frames, old manuals, and dusty parts inside. "I was very much frightened that it was some ploy to end my life, understandably. But when I opened this, it revealed itself as being instead an old harmless kit, rather capable of machine and weapon assembly at a more rapid speed than normal."

 

"M're rapid?" My mouth uttered. It amazed me that someone would simply leave behind something so amazingly useful in just a local noodle shop.

 

"Indeed. Though the dust might suggest otherwise on first glance, this kit is a standalone engineer's dream, filled with manuals on creations from turrets to laser swords, and then also on non-lethal and very beneficial devices to save lives."

 

Kiku paused and turned to me, robe swaying with his curt movement. "My presumption is that you have more intelligence than what belies you to others. I think this case, and the contents within, are the best suited for your mind of the many things that I could give you."

 

My eyes widened at this pointed remark. Frankly, the complement caught me completely off-guard, and I was unsure of how to respond to our host's confident observation.

 

"D' y' mean that?" I uttered.

 

I was so used to people thinking that I was just brain-dead because of my appearance and because of being a slave for four years. There used to be a part of my life when I could never have dreamed of anyone calling me smart or intelligent ever again, but here a complete stranger was doing that.

 

There was nothing but grateful shock.

 

He chuckled heartily, I suppose from seeing my disbelief. His paled hands clasped the case shut and handed the leather straps to me. "I would not be passing this on to you otherwise, Berwald. I trust what the Winter Sniper has told me about you."

 

What Tino told him?

 

"...wh't did h' say 'bout me?"

 

Kiku leaned carefully, gracefully against the wall, watching as I shouldered the case onto my back. "You are his guidance. You are his rational weight that he depends on. There was many a night that he would return from a mission to pay me a visit. He would confess over a meal that he secretly felt ill after most of the dirty deeds he would perform --"

 

He hesitated suddenly, staring over the room, and I followed his gaze. "Excuse me, I need to go close up the shop. I apologize for my rudeness."

 

And just as soon as he had begun the story, it was cut fatally brief. He clacked away on his sandals and up the ladder well across the room.

 

I had a sneaking feeling he wouldn't get the opportunity to tell me more about Tino.

 

Startling me out of those thoughts, I caught a rapid motion out of the corner of my eye, and startled backwards against the wall.

 

* * *

 

I saw a knife. That was the first thing, waving in my peripheral vision, taunting me, mocking me, reminding me.

 

Polished. I thought back to the blood. I thought back to hours before. Evil grins and yellow, sickly yellow.

 

Sickly grimy yellow. The knife. The lunge, and then the purge. But everything was beginning to turn red again...

 

And this sudden urge to tear the knife away and go collapse again, because I was convinced that he still wasn't dead, that he had tracked me down and snuck up and I was trapped...

 

* * *

 

I blinked, and I realized that it was only Mathias waving a knife in his hand, and he was walking over to me to start conversation.

 

My free hand was grasping unconsciously for a weapon of some kind, and I felt a sickening feeling at this realization.

 

"Heya Bear! Tino wanted me ta let ya know that we're all gettin' ready ta leave now!! He noticed ya were talkin' up a storm over here!!" A naive grin spread itself over the blonde's face, letting me know that he was completely clueless on what just happened. "Anyways, catch ya topside!!"

 

He waved jovially and almost seemed to skip away, only looking down to sheath the knife in a little holster he had attached to his belt.

 

I watched half-lucidly as everyone began to filter towards the ladder, with Lukas casting a longing glance back at me, before even he left.

 

The sudden emptiness in the room left me feeling bastardized and lonely. How could nobody else have noticed what just happened?

 

I gritted my teeth in bitter frustration, feeling mad at myself that I had succumbed to some kind of a hallucination. I was lucky that it was a hallucination. I shouldered the weight of the case awkwardly on my back, parts rattling freely around inside, dragging the balance downwards.

 

Before I left, as an afterthought, I loosely grabbed a medical kit before following the others out.

 

* * *

 

My suspicion about Kiku was true as well, and I never got the opportunity to hear his memories about Tino.

 

I mused about it in frustration, the case full of parts residing dejectedly at my feet, and the safety straps crossed once again over my torso, and my packed bag bearing down on my lap.

 

And that incomplete conversation felt so... achingly raw and undeveloped. It burned in me that there may never be a chance to hear more. So while Gil and Alfred were preparing to start the engine again in front of me, I couldn't help but desperately grab onto what Kiku had told me in that hidden basement.

 

Tino felt ill after his missions.

 

He would visit the shop... to eat, but also to vent.

 

And.....

 

Damn it, what else did Kiku say?

 

What was it? That Tino had said that I was his rationality, that I balance him?

 

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched his face stare forward, resolute, unwavering.

 

But I didn't reach my hand out this time, and my attention returned back into myself as the hovercar lifted off, consciously piloted.

 

While I went on auto-pilot, I closed my eyes to do some more thinking, blocking out the chatty conversation erupting around me at this, that, and the next thing.

 

And to my surprise, my thoughts took me to an unexpected snippet of memory drifting into seamless but loose thoughts.

 

* * *

 

"Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, fifty-nine."

 

"N' sixty?"

 

"One short. Wonder where it went?"

 

"M'ybe th' neighbor stole 't."

 

"Could be. Or a rabbit got to it. Either way, I'm not too concerned about a missing carrot."

 

"Just glad t' have fifty-nine?"

 

"Yeah, you bet. I'd rather have fifty-nine than spend another winter like the last one without a good source of vitamins."

 

"Mm."

 

* * *

 

Just glad to have fifty-nine carrots, he said, there on the tundra. Just glad to have a sustainable living in hardship times.

 

To be optimistic, and to keep going. And to also be thankful for what is had and being had.

 

Just glad to have the chance to live?

 

Just glad to have that chance to live, yeah.

 

* * *

 

When I woke up, the first thing that came to my mind was the strange dream I had, a bizarre recollection that blurred the lines between my various memories about Tino.

 

The second thing that came to my mind was the fact that I had been asleep for a long time, and that I must have taken an accidental nap midflight. Everything was dark inside the hovercar, with the lights of the dashboard at the front being the only illumination.

 

With a grunt, I sat straight up, wondering what the time was, and I looked around. There was a gentle snoring sound coming from somewhere. I could see the murky silhouette of Tino's form leaning on his window. His body was still restrained upright by the cross-belt.

 

I gently undid my own belt, silently getting up to go to the front of the vehicle. Everything was eerily silent besides the snoring, the hum of the engine, and the occasional whisper of the wind outside. My voice came up hoarse from my throat as I stood bent-over between Gil and Alfred, my knees popping at the gesture.

 

"Hey."

 

Alfred looked over his shoulder up at me, from the geoscape in front of him, and he smiled slightly. "Hey yourself bro, you've been out for a while."

 

I wiped at my face clumsily with a calloused hand, and an unavoidable yawn surfaced. "Wh't time?"

 

Gil answered without turning his head. "Sun just went down. It's about, uhhhhh..... yeah Al, what is the time? Yo it says, uh, there it is, it says it's like seven in the evening, nevermind."

 

If it was about seven, then I had a really long nap, amazingly enough.

 

Alfred turned to me again, pointing at the geo tool. "So as y'all can see, we made it past the border, luckily. We're about three-quarters of the way to the site Tino pointed out, and we're about to head into these mountains up above, here."

 

Gil snorted quietly. "I fucking hate mountains, honestly, like you just don't understand man. It's so damn hard to find a safe way through them with a small vehicle like this one." He stopped abruptly to take a long sip from a plastic cup in a nearby drink holder. "Ahhhh, yo that really hits the spot. Anyway, yeah. Shit's about to get turbulent as fuck. Knowing my deadass luck, there's gonna be a magnetic storm or some bullshit like that."

 

I watched as Alfred leaned over to pinch his co-pilot. "Will you stop going on about that nonsense? You know that's just a rumor everyone spread to prevent travel over this direction. There's not enough strength for that. And besides, we've flown through worse you moron."

 

Gil turned to look at his friend, and at this point I felt like I was just an invisible camera, quietly observing their banter. "Yo, Mister 'I half-assed studied for my Planetary Motions degree', there's nothing worse than a magnetic storm for a vehicle like this one. Shit like that is what they use to break these fuckers down at scrapyards, that ever occurred to you? Huh?"

 

He took another achingly long draw from the cup, which rattled with the sound of ice. "Uh yeah, so back to your point about that trip to that stupid moon, Mapa, is that the one your ass is bringing up?" Gil looked achingly over at his friend, and I caught a hint of bitterness in his tone.

 

I looked to Alfred for confirmation, and to my surprise, he met my eyes. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure that's the one."

 

"Mapa?" I asked. "Th't's a moon?" There was so much to learn now that I was away from the mines, and I felt like when I first learned how to swim, floundering in all of the new knowledge coming my way.

 

Alfred gave me a doubtful look. "You don't know? It's one of the satellites of Dernsonst, a gas giant in this system. It's a moon completely covered in ice water and the surface is cold as fuck, but there's a submerged aquatic resort under the ice that houses black markets and casinos. It has a history as a pirate's hideout turned refuge for illegal interplanetary gambling."

 

He smiled. "That's the short history anyway."

 

Gil scoffed, pressing a button for auto-pilot. "Yeah yeah, fucking know-it-all. Anyway, he's bringing up that story because --" He emphasized the 'because' with the crack of several knuckles at once. "--it involved an error on both of our parts."

 

His red eyes stared grimly forward, lit up by the vehicle's display to an eery hue. "A fucking stupid one. One that got Mattie in the hospital." The bitterness turned to regret in his voice.

 

"Wh't d' ya mean? Who's th't?"

 

And in that moment, I was more focused on their conversation than my own personal wonders and fascinations.

 

I had forgotten for the moment, after that lengthy nap, the lurking horrors within my subconscious, too confused by the reality I found myself with.

 

My attention was too wrapped up in Gil and Alfred's conversation to begin processing anything else... and I think, in that moment, I was really seeking temporary escape from my personal problems.

 

That's the feeling I get now when I remember that moment, anyway.

 

XXX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh don't worry everyone, you'll eventually learn what happened to Canada in this AU...
> 
> ((In the meantime, I'm glad to be back and posting again after such a long pause, sorry to make the wait suffering))
> 
> Oh, and in the time since I last posted here, I received my first anon hate on the ask blog! They were criticizing me for this, if y'all are interested: https://nordic-space-ikea-au.tumblr.com/post/183062088746/k-so-i-read-the-fic-and-i-just-dont-understand  
> It was about why I was using albinism negatively in this AU. ((Same anon also bitched me out for the way I was writing Norway in this, but you can't please everyone so go off I guess))


	17. Keeping Your Promises

"I pledge my life, my soul and heart..."

 

"...'til death will cut us both apart."

 

My words rang out freely in the bright mist of the November sun, low among the crisp pines and the cloudberry bushes, hiding worlds of secrets and natural delights.

 

The snap of a folder followed after, chasing the syllables. I heard the words of Berwald's grandmother echo in the air sequentially, like a victory call. "The vows are spoken, then, and the orientation is complete!"

 

Thunderous clapping rose from our families, friends and relatives, and residents from the rural lands like us. Among the front row, I found the proud faces of Lukas, my mother, and Eduard too, as they smiled brightly and uniquely, eyes aglow.

 

On the opposite side of the crowd, Berwald's family beamed at me; his stern uncle and aunt, Pal and Kristine, even they managed to seem jovial at it all, the merriment somehow warming their normally icy expressions. The look befitted them, something you'd typically expect of people involved in administrative authority like them.

 

Towering above all of us, the plain graveyard's obelisk stood sentinel over life and death, guardian of marriage and funerals...

 

'Til death will cut us all apart.

 

My fiance himself made eye contact with me, and the space dwindled between us in such a joyful embrace. His work clothes felt so warm and dark in the wonderful sunlight, protective, never predatory, pleasant, never patronizing. Berwald's breath ghosted low over the lobe of my ear.

 

He didn't have to say anything to tell me how he felt. He was excited and anxious, his elbows shaking around my hips as he held me close. One of my hands gently coursed through the shaggy strands of his hair, trying to savor the moment.

 

I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to Mummi, watching as her olden face crinkled in knowing merriment. "No' yo' should kno' that we're not done yet. Don't be gettin' ideas, Ti-ti dea'." Her nicknaming made a chuckle bubble up out of me.

 

The old granny always knew how to put me in a better mood, even when I didn't think it was possible. The way the sunlight highlighted her face seemed to symbolize a hidden strength in her family -- the ability to face anything head on, fear or no fear. I loved her like she was my own, because her matriarchal presence was life-giving.

 

I stared whimsically into her deep eyes, like smoke and mirrors though they were. "Oh don't you worry Mummi, Berwald and I will behave ourselves until the ceremony's finished. I respect you too much!!" I turned my grinning face back up to Berwald, pressing a chill finger into his handsome nose. "You heard her, Ber, no ideas! We're not allowed to think!"

 

My gut erupted into laughter at his flustered expression, and Mummi tsked. "Yo' got yourself a rea' jokester, grandson..." And she clacked away across the spruce platform, weight shifting away, the crowd reducing to a hum and a murmur.

 

Berwald took his hand in mine, tenderly and warmly, eyes shining, and we followed Mummi to the gravel road. The mist and gentle breeze made friends and danced together at our feet, seemingly enchanting the whole celebration with a profound mysticism.

 

We paused long enough to let Mamma kiss both of our cheeks, her smile radiating so much emotion and pride.

 

"Tino... I'm so... so happy for you..." Her arm hooked around mine and I felt the cotton of her fall dress on my arm, soft as a baby's head. "I wondered, all these years, who had really caught the apple of my son's eyes..... but to think it was the kind professor's boy..."

 

On Berwald's side, his aunt Kristine had hooked arms with him, whispering inaudibly in his ear. Mamma continued to chatter away at me, and I lost focus of her words. Ahead of the four of us, Eduard and Lukas had struck some kind of intellectual conversation, and terminology of a debate wavered through the air to my ears.

 

My ears singled out the sounds of my footsteps against the gravel path...

 

...fighting against the murmur of the crowd.

 

I listened to them both on the short walk to the ceremony pavilion.

 

"Alright Lukas, I get your theory, but what about the development of capitalism among other colonial planets? The subjugation that's been happening of alien species? It's a new and profound kind of event that's evolved to humankind, even if you propose that it's impossible for humans to not have need to create colonies and enamor more governments."

 

I strained my ears to hear Lukas' reply, but it only amounted to a certain amount of grumbling and the wave of his hand briefly, then chased back into the pocket of his knit jacket.

 

Eduard continued, a sense of urgency pushing through in the air. "Look and deny it all you want, but I think my thesis has merit. I'm going to submit to the prof and see what she thinks. I think we could create a new field of study!" He placed a freckled hand on Lukas' firm shoulder. "Think about it Lukas, we could call it 'stellar anthropology'..."

 

He waved his free hand in a panoramic style in front of them. Lukas looked at Eduard apprehensively, humming in thought. His dark eyes narrowed and briefly looked at me, before he smiled and faced forward again.

 

And he was happy too, just like Mamma and the others, for sure. It was all over his body language.

 

Normally I would see him in concentration and utter focus at his desk, studious as ever, only emerging from his research and datapads to grab some morning liquid and sustenance. Here he seemed completely relaxed and in an enjoyable element, even if so many people were around.

 

Maybe it was the scientist inside him that let him overcome his introvertedness at times.

 

I admired that side of Lukas.

 

...And simply him in general.

 

Ever quiet, but unafraid to interact with the world.

 

He and Eduard stepped up into the pavilion, chatter fading away under the immense carved woodwork. My eyes trailed along the grooves, depicting scenes from literature and the history of the little village it was surrounded by, bonfires and parties, weddings and funerals. The history of entire generations, submitted to test the sands of time itself.

 

It was marvelous that we could be so technologically advanced as a species, and yet still cling onto materialism as a superiority over the natural law. It was some kind of a harmony surely, even if we all had our own ideas of what things were supposed to be.

 

Humans are strange like that.

 

Mamma pinched my elbow, drawing my attention back to her youthful face. She grinned. "Yes, you were distracted, weren't you?"

 

I couldn't help but grin at her in admittance. Spot on as always, of course she was able to read me as her flesh and blood. So I winked.

 

Her head bowed low to me and came back up, this time with a grimace on her face. An awkward cough erupted from her throat.

 

Her pace halted instantly, tugging on the chain that we formed with Berwald and his aunt.

 

Something changed in her, but I didn't know what. Her countenance oscillated between shades of fear, staring over my shoulder down the road.

 

"Mamma? Is something..." I trailed away weakly to a mumble, following her dark gaze beyond the signpost and the ancient wooden gate. "...What IS that?"

 

What 'that' was appeared to be a far-away dark mass slowly moving in our direction.

 

Berwald's uncle suddenly ran up to us, skidding to a halt on the gravel fronting the pavilion. Stones scattered chaotically from his best Sunday shoes. "Th' bastards are back, Kristine." He looked dreadfully into his wife's eyes, stone with fear.

 

My fiance's arm unhooked from mine, my mother clinging harder onto my arm and dragging me close to her. I felt the way her skinny frame quivered next to mine with an alarming sense of alacrity, too shocked to say a single thing.

 

Berwald's voice sounded out in the misty air, and I watched his expression closely, trying to get a read on what was happening. "What d' y' mean? What 're y' talkin' about?" He was trying to hide away his own panic... and failing.

 

His aunt fought away tears in her eyes. "Oh God no... they wouldn' take th' pardon?!"

 

"They refused?!" My mother cried out, trepidation dripping from the shaking of her voice. "You mean they couldn't wait until the wedding was over for negotiations?!"

 

Ber's uncle stared pensively towards the misty horizon beyond the farm terraces, expression otherwise unreadable. "I told them when w' would b' done. This isn't a matter 'f negotiations anymore. They're out f'r our lives now."

 

Another one of Berwald's relatives, name forgotten to me, joined our small group, and beyond my frightfully still mother I saw Eduard and Lukas look back out in confusion. "Pal! Kristine!" He paused to catch his breath. "The mayor... sent me from the community center, electronic transfers are being sabotaged... in the entire region! He says that the global government's been disassembled! Ah, there's no more law, no more order!"

 

Eduard jumped down from the pavilion in a rush, shock readily available to see in his gaze. "Surely this is a damn joke?! You don't mean to be serious about it?!"

 

When Ber's uncle looked sternly into Ed's eyes, I could tangibly feel the defeat in the air.

 

What the hell was this all about? What did everybody know that I didn't?

 

Eduard's voice returned, marked with new signs of timidity. "You... it's serious... but how... how are we just now getting word of this?!"

 

I heard coughing behind me, turning to see a quiet milled chaos emerging. Berwald's grandmother was hurrying 'round to as many of the guests as possible, urging them to stay calm and collected with a hushed voice.

 

My mother looked as well, and then pulled me suddenly into a hug. "Tino, my son, I've never been in this much fear. I don't want t-to lose you!" Her hand held my face to her shoulder, and I smelled the exotic lavender essence she had put on that morning for the wedding.

 

She fought to hold in her sobs, and I stared blankly at nothing at all. My voice came out flavorless and foreign to my ears.

 

"...you're not going to lose me. I promise."

 

Why did I say that?

 

I didn't know a damn thing about what was going on.

 

What could I promise her in that uncertainty?

 

Berwald placed a hand on my shoulder firmly, grunting in agreement.

 

His uncle continued. "W' need t' go now. Even if w' all tried to stay and fight, we'd be outclassed and outnumbered. Kristine, I need you t' take Tino and Berwald and them all t' a safer place, see if you can get down t' my brother's house and hide in there."

 

There was a defiant tone to his spouse's voice as she uttered, low and tremored. "Pal, tell me you're going t' live. Tell me we'll see each other again."

 

I watched her husband's face contort into an ugly, convoluted expression. "Y' know I can't make that promise. Just take our nephew an' his family-to-be t' safety."

 

Her frame went rigid with strife and forced movement, staring at him as she hurried away over the loose stones. Only the limitations of physicality broke her ability to look back at him.

 

"Uncle, why don't y' come with 's?" Berwald spoke up angrily. "Y' breakin' Aunt's heart!"

 

The stoic man turned his back on us all without an answer, walking away calmly down the road. The solemn crunch of gravel adorned the air unpleasantly.

 

Lukas stepped down to us from inside the shade of the pavilion, beckoning us with a gesture of the hand to do as Ber's uncle commanded, and follow Kristine. The crimson red of his dress shirt flared brilliantly in the rising fall sun, which cleared the mist away perilously. His expression was grim, yet determined.

 

Several men and women ran past us down the road after Berwald's uncle, including Berwald's anonymous relative, and I watched them all begin to argue with the stern, defiant man. Mamma tugged on my arm for my attention, and I reluctantly turned to hurry away with her and the others.

 

An immense wave of fear rolled throughout my nerves, and I could feel my hands beginning to shake slightly with adrenaline.

 

I broke into a moderately brisk jog, slow enough that my mother could keep up. Berwald and Lukas sprang ahead of me along the path, unrestricted, racing to the modernized cabin where Berwald's father stayed and kept his work.

 

I didn't know much about Berwald's father, save that he was a rather busy academic. He didn't show to the wedding because of a conflict -- a presentation on chemistry at the university in Helsinki, about an hour away.

 

Something about a new and improved alternative to anaesthetics.

 

I personally think he just did it to avoid meeting my family. He seemed like the kind of person to make up borderline-valid excuses.

 

Only Ber's aunt and uncle had access cards to Professor Oxenstierna's house. And even then, nobody, not even Berwald, was allowed in the basement of the cabin. Ber told me that himself.

 

If things were as dire as I thought they might be, then the basement really was a strong hope. It was somehow supposed to be the last bastion for us all to resort to, and even whatever secrets were inside couldn't keep Pal from directing us all there.

 

I looked back towards the graveyard and the ceremonial pavilion, partially hidden by pines and firs alike. I shielded my eyes from the morning glare, gaping as a straggling group from the orientation earlier followed us to the house.

 

It was a hell of a sight to see from the porch of that little fielded cabin, with the mist becoming ever thinner, and feeling ever more vulnerable by the second.

 

But really, what the hell was going on?

 

* * *

 

I was torn out of my vivid dream by Berwald, who tapped my shoulder lightly. I turned my head away from the window of the hover-car and stared at him in half-lids, wondering what he needed me for.

 

"Spoke with Al 'nd Gil. Told m' that we're almost there." His eyes glinted in the hazy light from the dashboard, face outlined in a greenish-blue tinge.

 

I moved my head sluggishly, nodding in response.

 

As my hus-- my fiance sat down, Mathias grunted somewhere in the darkness, and I caught the stretch of his hairy arms in the light. He followed up with a yawn.

 

I spoke without much thought to him, quietly. "Hey, drunk."

 

"Eh?" He turned around to look at me drowsily, eyes blinking away sleep.

 

"You doing okay? After what happened earlier?"

 

He chuckled lightly, voice catching in his throat. "Hehe, I'm fine. That was a hella good nap, helped me out a whole bunch!" Mathias smiled brightly, even in the darkness.

 

"If you say so." Why did I bother asking him that? Of course he was peachy keen and perfectly clean, it seemed like nothing could bring him down.

 

Not even whatever the fuck earlier was, with that seizure.

 

It came out of nowhere though. Maybe that's why I asked if he was okay.

 

I stared at my gloved hands in the darkness of the hover-car, listening to the steady hum of the engine purring. Wind occasionally whistled through cracks in the doors, but very occasionally.

 

I had to admit, despite the way Gil played up his vehicle before we left the city, it was still well built for travel.

 

Beyond the vulcanized glass, in the outside, the two moons shone obnoxiously through the cloud layers. The outline of a mountain range was distinguishable on the horizon, slowly approaching us. The yellowish and egg white appearances of the lunar bodies were jarring to me, like a cat with a blind eye staring back and straight into your soul.

 

Even after four years, I couldn't get used to the idea of two moons in the night sky.

 

I missed just having the one. I never really realized it until now, maybe after that dream, why the moons made me feel the way that they did.

 

They were a mockery to me. They reinforced the aberrant nature of this whole place, the unhomely vibe that met me at every turn and corner.

 

I heard Mathias' crackly voice waver in the stale air inside the hover-car, and the sound of a pack shifting onto the floor with a dull thud. "I think I see lightnin' ahead." There was the sound of his seat-belt undoing, and he leaned over Alfred's shoulder. "Do ya see it dude? There, in tha clouds on tha right."

 

I craned my neck to see, undoing my own restraints with a clacking sound. Berwald looked at me, then followed my gaze, to what looked like a low thunderhead some distance away. The anvil on top seemed to shimmer gently in the dualistic moonlight.

 

Gil sighed loudly from the pilot's seat. "Fuck. See, Al, that's what I was talkin' about! I knew somethin' like this was gonna happen! Shit man, we should have planned for another corridor..."

 

I studied Alfred as he responded. "Will you calm down and stop whinin'? There's no magnetic current strong enough to do us in, it's just a regular ol' t-storm. Ain't nothin' bad! Keep your wits aboutcha for godssake, Gil..." He seemed confident in that response.

 

I joined Mathias near the pilot's seat, accidentally stepping on Emil's foot as it laid out in the aisle. It earned me some cursing from the teen, and I muttered an apology under my breath to him.

 

"Yo, okay, y'all can tell me to calm my tits as many times as you like, it don't change the fact that I'm fucking panicking right now. I don't want the same thing that happened to Mattie happening to any of your asses, okay?! I thought that was apparent!"

 

Mathias' face turned darker with worry. "But it won't happen again! I trust ya Gil, yer a fantastic pilot! Ya know what yer doin'!"

 

All became quiet in the car again. Then...

 

...in the relative dim lighting, the albino whispered in a creaking tone. "...Alfred... how can you tell...?"

 

At first I didn't follow what he was talking about, but it soon became apparent with the response he got from his buddy.

 

"If there was magnetism in the storm, then our systems would already be doing weird shit, Gil. You remember how it played out at Mapa."

 

"I don't want to fucking remember, though," the pilot croaked hoarsely.

 

"I don't care if you want to or not, Gil, you need to remember. Right before shit hit the fan, what went out first? Huh? The navigation tools. That's right." Al pressed a hand wearily into his face. "And see? I can still use the geo-tool perfectly well, and we're closer to the storm than what happened on that cursed-ass moon."

 

Gil stared sullenly over at his friend, eyes harsh and red.

 

"Gil... everything's gonna be okay. Nobody's gonna get hurt this time. I promise." Alfred placed a broad hand on the pilot's white jacket, rubbing a thumb in the fabric. "And I never blamed you for any of it. Not even the coma. You couldn't see it coming, I never saw it coming... nobody saw it coming, Gil."

 

I listened closely to the slight wheezing of the albinos breath in front of me, and the way Al sighed gently as he looked through the windshield at the approaching storm.

 

"You're my best buddy, Gil. Nothing could ever change that. I'd rather have nobody else in the cockpit with me."

 

Mathias nodded slightly, eyebrows knit in some kind of sympathetic disposition.

 

In response, Gil sniffed lightly, eyes sullen and transfixed on the horizon, ever on the darkness ahead. "Even if... even if Mattie still hasn't woken up."

 

Alfred paused hesitantly, before he smiled, almost indeterminably, at Gil. "...that's right bro. Even if he hasn't woken up yet."

 

There was hope still, it sounded like.

 

Alfred was promising that no one would be hurt, but did he have that power to say so?

 

Did I have the power to tell my own loved ones that everything would be okay?

 

Did I?

 

XXX


	18. Just Stare Ahead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, I'm back with another chapter. I apologize again for the wait everyone, you can only do so much with a lack of inspiration, hehe!

I watched, half-assed and half-interested, as Al continued to calm the pilot in the seat in front of me. His mumbling seemed kind, I guess.

 

To my annoyance, Tino stayed standing, hunched, in front of me, taking up my leg space, what a gripe.

 

"Hey, move will you? I need to stretch." I got a sour and vicious glare before he shuffled back to the seats behind me, returning my rightful space to me and letting me spread my legs out readily.

 

It felt nice and cool there in the darkness of the car, with the minimal lighting encouraging me to continue resting my eyes. The sounds continued on around me, breathings, murmurs, rumbles of the engine.

 

Disassociation is always nice, for certain.

 

I tried to relax my muscles as much as I could muster, get some more nice alone time. If we were supposed to enter a storm, from what it sounded like, then it was best to save energy. Not much to do otherwise. Really.

 

Well, there's actually not much to do even in a thunderstorm. You sort of just have to ride the waves, or something schmultzy like that.

 

...

 

...it was strange, feeling the ways the hover-car rode with and fought against the air, as it slowly passed over the tip of a low cloud bank. My gaze took in the sight of the view to my left, illuminated by moonlight, a brilliant and strange blue-grey. More mountains. A dark mass sprawling across the land. An inkling of a man-made canal somewhere down there.

 

There was a kind of peace that I felt that was both familiar and new, there among the clouds. I could never feel so much at home on the ground, I know that much now. Even with the uncertainty of Gil, his piloting was steady and calming.

 

Flying, soaring. Like a meteor that would never crash... just keep going on and on through the air.

 

A slight tingle echoed from out of my belly, and I covered a hand over my stomach, the other hand cupping the bandages on my elbow.

 

...

 

I didn't think he was alive this entire time.

 

I wasn't sure completely that it even was Kiku.

 

That's why I let Tino take the package instead of me. I didn't want another burden in my fucked-up life. It just wasn't necessary, you know?

 

...stupid bastard. At least he was kind enough to tell me what happened with Mei.

 

I was waiting out to see if he poisoned the food he served to everyone else, but it seemed to be completely unnecessary. I was such a dumbass for not taking him up on his offer, why did I think he was out to get us all?

 

I just didn't get it.

 

I sighed, glancing slightly over at Mathias. He almost immediately noticed and turned to me, smiling. And I changed my mind and turned away, with a huff.

 

Nevermind it all. I was sure he had knocked himself out. It was just a minor concussion, if that, probably.

 

I remembered earlier this afternoon, when we got in the car and I checked to see if he had one. Which he didn't, gladly. Less things to keep track of on my end. I didn't like the delegation of medic, that role could fuck off.

 

It didn't help that I was the one with the kit, hell. But....

 

My fingers brushed lightly over the pistol on my belt.

 

...But this I could try to get behind. Aiming a gun is easy, they said. Aiming a gun is easy.

 

Aiming is the simple part.

 

My view transferred to the window again.

 

But it's one thing to aim, and another to fire. To comprehend. Or, shoot first and ask questions later. I wasn't a big fan of that philosophy. You obviously want to know what you're shooting, right?

 

...

 

Dumbass instructors.

 

Gil's hoarse voice suddenly called up in the dim lighting of the hover-car, announcing that we were about to enter the same mobile thunderhead from before.

 

I double-checked the security of my restraints before relaxing into the seat again, hefty sigh puffing from my throat.

 

Mathias chuckled and looked over at me with a shit-eating grin on his face. "Hey hey, do ya wanna hear a joke, Emil?"

 

"Not really, nah. But I don't really care either way. Do whatever I guess."

 

I watched his eyes glint out of the corner of my vision, his smile somehow intensifying. "Whaddaya call a thunderstorm that's addicted to cocaine?"

 

I rolled my eyes and responded as sarcastically as possible. "I don't know, what?"

 

He giggled again, leaning over the aisle to me. "A crackhead. Get it? 'Cause... do ya get it??"

 

Yeah, I got the joke. It was just stupid.

 

But...

 

I still couldn't keep a little tiny grin off my face. Maybe it was the way he said it that did that for me.

 

Hm.

 

I heard Mathias gasp loudly. "YA SMILED!!!"

 

"Hey Mat, y'all might wanna stop wiggling and moving around, you know? It's gonna get dangerous." Alfred sighed. "Gotta be careful, the extra movement could do something to distract Gil."

 

"Oh!!! Right!" He sat up straight in his seat and held his hands together in his lap. "Yes sirree!! I will behave m'self!!"

 

I was about to sigh again, but then I caught some of the whisperings going on behind me.

 

"...with me. Here. Quickly."

 

"Alright... about th' packs?"

 

"... We need to do...."

 

I turned in my seat, watching the bear and the Winter Sniper exchange seats. Lukas stared rather balefully at me, giving me a sensation of unease that I tried to ignore.

 

I tried not to pay it any attention.

 

But it still bothered me, so I turned around just as quickly as the previous time.

 

"Hey, Lu. Calm... relax. This is... a temporary thing, I promise..." Tino continued to whisper behind me, as two restraints activated yet again.

 

Huh.

 

It just occurred to me in that moment that I hadn't heard Lukas ever speak a single word.

 

He hadn't said a single damn thing over the entire span of a day.

 

What was he, a mute?

 

My curiosity got the better of me again.

 

Over the ever increasing rumbles of the turbulence, I called back to Tino. "Hey, Sniper!"

 

"Eh! What, Emil??"

 

"Is Lukas a mute??"

 

"What??!"

 

"I said, IS LUKAS A MUTE??"

 

"Fucking calm down, I heard you the first time! No he's not, stop asking stupid questions!"

 

Rude.

 

At least he bothered to answer my question instead of ignoring me.

 

I tuned out again, falling back into my own thoughts, listening to the approaching sound of thunder rumble through the air.

 

Not a mute. Hasn't said anything.

 

But he only stares at me.

 

I bet he's staring at me right now, isn't he?

 

But don't turn around, could be dangerous.

 

Could be, but would it be?

 

Best not to.

 

Might be impolite. Don't want to set the criminal off again. Tino.

 

Hmmm.

 

And he's been overly protective of Lukas, ever since we all found ourselves together, on the run like this. Tino's always freaked out when Lukas was gone.

 

I thought he was only his cousin??? Really confusing.

 

Just...

 

...stick with it Emil. Keep your head low and keep going.

 

That voice of inspiration sounded a bit too much like Leon's.

 

Just...

 

...a bit too much.

 

I hid my face in my sleeve and tried to shut the maelstrom out.

 

* * *

 

Gil battled against the storm for what felt like ages, before we finally cleared the cloud and ascended over the mountain range. I knew we were really through when Alfred heaved back against his seat with a rather loud sigh.

 

"Fucking hell. We're through."

 

Mathias cried out in some kind of happy exclamation. "WOO!"

 

I smirked. Good for us, I guess.

 

"Now, Al, find the landing spot, yeah? My ass is gettin' tired from all this stress."

 

I watched Al beam over at his albino co-pilot. "Damn straight, partner. You did really well man, we're alive and happy!"

 

I imagined that the look on Gil's face was fairly ecstatic.

 

Al fiddled around more with the geoscale, examining the landscape for a few heavy moments, before he finally looked back up at Gil. "We're about 100 kilometers away from a significant patch of unforested area. Looks to be about...eh....maybe 50-ish kilometers wide worth of meadow of some kind."

 

"Meadow. Hills or any of that shit?"

 

"Nah. Fairly flat I think. We should try to avoid the watershed dip, that'd be the hilliest point."

 

"Yo alright, just pass me the coordinates over here."

 

I watched with interest as Alfred zoomed in closer to the landscape, before pressing a button. A tiny ding resounded from the console somewhere, and Gil flashed his friend a thumbs up in response.

 

Tino spoke up from behind me. "Since we're almost there, we should have a plan for clearing a camp."

 

Berwald grunted. "Mm."

 

There was another clack of seatbelts being undone as Tino got up to stand behind the pilots again. I moved my legs out of the aisle reluctantly.

 

"Alright, here's the deal people. When we land, you need to cut the engines as soon as possible. We don't want to give any more indication that we're out here, alright? Under no circumstances do we turn this hunk of junk back on. I have a sneaking suspicion we're being followed. Don't know how, don't know who, but I trust my gut more than you believe."

 

Tino turned to us all.

 

"When we leave, make sure you have three things at the ready: light sources, a means of defense, and your reflexes. Even I don't completely know what's out here in this ecosystem. Us landing here isn't gonna scare the wildlife away for long, especially once they smell us meatbags."

 

He turned to me. "In their eyes we're all fat little snacks. You got that?"

 

I snorted. "Quite the commander, aren't you?"

 

Tino only smirked at me, before looking over at Lukas. "I'm gonna ask you to stay inside until it's safe, okay? It's for your benefit, alright?"

 

The pale blonde nodded slightly, otherwise motionless.

 

The Winter Sniper put a hand on Alfred's seat to steady himself. "I'll climb up on top of the car and run command from there."

 

Mathias spoke up. "What about me, dude?"

 

"You get the ever luxurious task of piling out with your buddies, Berwald, and Emil, to clear the area. I picked up a little something-something back at Kiku's place, a kind of omni-directional sonic perimeter that we can deploy as a deterrent. I gonna give each of you a piece, and we'll walk out in a circle from the hover-car."

 

Figures that he'd put me on the supposed 'offensive'. I snorted again in response.

 

"We'll also have signals to call out in the dark, in case something happens."

 

Mathias hummed. "Like....?"

 

"Let's see.... every 10 seconds or so, I'm gonna yell: 'CALL!' In response, you all can yell out one of two things. 'CLEAR' for safe, 'HELP' for danger. Don't keep walking if you can't hear anyone, including me, stop where you're at and deploy the device immediately on the ground. If you can't find your way back to the car, stay by the device until I come and get you. Got it?"

 

Alfred called back towards us. "Why can't we just deploy them all nearer to the car?"

 

"The signal would be too strong. A concentration like that runs the risk of fucking the hover-car's systems up badly, plus it would become a beacon for whoever's tracking us. By spreading them out on the perimeter, we keep the signal local and at the right level for what we need, plus we keep ourselves open to an escape."

 

"...Oh. Okay."

 

"Also...shout GREEN when you deploy the device. I should hear five different GREENs."

 

The criminal crossed his arms. "Everyone good? Ready?"

 

We all nodded in unison. He had clearly thought this out very deeply.

 

Tino walked back to his seat and reholstered himself in the restraints.

 

My fingers ran over the outline of my laser pistol, psyching myself up for the approaching danger.

 

You can do it.

 

You can do it.

 

You'll live.

 

* * *

 

I caught the flashlight that Mathias tossed me, gripping the handle tightly.

 

Tino rummaged through his bag, passing out the deterrents to each of us. In the greenish light of the dashboard, the metal seemed smooth and porcelain, hiding a hidden weapon. Two buttons were inset into a panel, with on/off symbols. I clipped the mechanism onto my belt hastily.

 

We all paused to look at each other, Gil and Al staring inquisitively back at Tino.

 

Lukas' eyes met mine again for a solid moment, seemingly filled with a new kind of fear.

 

In the split second before we all opened the two doors on either side of the hover car, I heard a mysterious sound in my head, almost like the wind rushing in my ears.

 

But it was quite clearly, my name.

 

_Emil._

 

Everything happened fast after that. Gil cut the engines and we left through the doors one by one by one, spreading out around the car. My boots crunched through the grass like packing wafers, noisy. Harsh.

 

My heart pounded hard again in my ribcage. I quickly switched my flashlight on, following the rim of the hover-car to the window next to Gil's seat, facing at an acute angle away from the front of the car.

 

That's the direction, then.

 

I heard Tino call out somewhere in the darkness behind me. "I'm gonna climb the hover-car, no one panic!" And then he acted on his words, getting on top of the vehicle with minimal noise and effort. "Kay, call!"

 

Berwald's heavy voice sounded out from the back of the car. "Clear!"

 

Mathias sounded from somewhere by his seat. "CLEAR!!!"

 

To my right, Alfred yelled. "Clear!!"

 

Gil yelled to my left. "Clear yo!"

 

My own voice sounded out hoarse, cracking mid-word.

 

"CleAR!"

 

The wind picked up suddenly and rushed through my hair, unnerving and bitterly cold. My entire body shivered uncontrollably through the leather jacket.

 

"Alright, let's go! Remember what I told you all earlier!"

 

I forced my shaking legs to go on slowly through the tall grass. My hands seemed to want to rattle off their wrists, and I began to feel very uncomfortable.

 

After some moments, "CALL!"

 

This time all the responses were a little less loud, but still audible. I tried to speak up a little louder when I responded, ever trying to stay aware of what was around.

 

My legs carried me past a boulder that was about half my height, and I made a mental note of its location for later. There didn't seem to be anything trying to kill me...yet.

 

"CALL!"

 

"Clear!"

 

CLEAR!"

 

I continued onwards, the light from my tool wavering with the ever shaking motion of my arms. The responses of everyone slowly became more and more distant, and my heart continued to pound on incessantly.

 

The wind kicked up yet again, trying to push me off balance. I paused briefly to steady myself.

 

And then I saw what I thought was a flash in the darkness, there between the tufts of grass that sprouted up knee-high.

 

Moonlight, maybe off a claw, but I wasn't sure in the moment.

 

I didn't waste a second, didn't hesitate, only acted.

 

I pressed the button.

 

An intensely high pitch sounded, soon rising above the range of my hearing. After initially cringing at the signal, I watched as the flash disappeared in the grass, the sound of scampering running through the brush. And then I remembered the directions Tino gave.

 

"...GREEN!"

 

Dimly through the darkness, I heard someone else cry out that they had deployed as well.

 

I took the device off of my belt and looked around for a place to put it in the dirt, watching as a yellow light flickered on and off from the panel. I set it on the ground carefully, light facing towards where I thought the direction of the car was.

 

What felt like several heavy minutes passed by. It was colder outside than I was expecting, and my body wouldn't stop shivering like a leaf.

 

"....Tino???" I hesitantly whispered out.

 

....

 

.........

 

................

 

"Hi!"

 

"SHIT!"

 

I stumbled backwards and fell on my ass, crunching some sticks beneath me noisily. My flashlight shined upwards, illuminating the grinning face of Tino as he stared down at me. "DON'T SCARE ME LIKE THAT, YOU FUCKER!"

 

He said no apology, but only grinned. "Back to the car now."

 

"Fine! Whatever." I huffed angrily at him, scoffing at the shit-eating grin he was sporting.

 

"Emil! Emil...!" I heard someone calling my name out of the darkness on my left, and I shined my flashlight to see who it was.

 

"Hey! I thought I told you to stay where you deployed the deterrent!" Tino cried.

 

The owner of the voice turned out to be Alfred. "Look, I thought I heard a scream from this direction. I wanted to make sure y'all were okay, yeah?"

 

Tino clasped a hand over his face in exasperation. "Fine, whatever. You left the device on the ground?"

 

"Yes sirree!"

 

"Then I'll show you both back to the car. Follow me then."

 

* * *

 

When we got back, it was apparent that Tino had already gotten everyone else there before Alfred and I. It made me feel a little unappreciated, but I tried not to let it bother me too much.

 

Everyone piled back inside of the car, which was the only shelter we had at the moment. There was a collective sigh from all as both of the doors were closed.

 

"So." Tino started, quietly, from the other middle seat beside mine. "Anyone see something?"

 

I thought about whether I should tell him about the mysterious flash briefly that I saw.

 

Then....

 

I decided against it, because I wasn't even sure if it was something to begin with.

 

So I kept my mouth shut.

 

And just stared ahead.

 

At nothing in particular.

 

XXX


	19. Are You There?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a lot to unpack here, fair warning, everyone!

....

 

........

 

............

 

Light. Everywhere.

 

What is this strange.... sensation? Filling my lungs?

 

Like.... .a cushion. Floating. Tumbling, without disorder, but yet without order.

 

I don't understand what's happening.

 

I see... colors.

 

I see... my own arms, my own body, but I can't feel anything.

 

Suspension.

 

Light.

 

Sleep.

 

Radiance.

 

Tranquility surrounds me with color, color.

 

I hear.... a rumbling. Beyond.

 

Gentle. What is it?

 

Submergence, arrival, but also raising, and departure.

 

Now I have direction. Now things are responsive.

 

Do I have agency? At least in control of my body.

 

I float towards that source of sound.

 

What is it? It rumbles, it permeates everything. It does. I feel it in my body, in my soul.

 

What is it?

 

I cannot control it. It must come from the beyond.

 

Light. Tremors. Floating, nothing to touch and yet I feel everything.

 

Who?

 

That's correct, it is a who. What person could be making that noise?

 

Who is that turbulent noise?

 

Strained, throaty.

 

A cry for help.

 

A laugh of lust.

 

Is it....

 

Is it him?

 

No. Nobody I know.

 

Neither scream nor whisper, like some sort of miasma of sonorous intent.

 

Not familiar. Not strange. Who?

 

Ah....

 

It's....

 

I know, I know who.

 

You've come back to me. Again.

 

Why....

 

Why are you here now?

 

What possesses you to be here?

 

W̸h̸a̶t̸ ̴p̵o̴s̸s̸e̵s̶s̶e̵s̴ ̶y̷o̴u̷ ̵t̵o̶ ̸b̶e̸ ̴h̶e̸r̵e̸?̴

 

You have no home here.

 

Y̷̝̚o̷̰̍ṷ̴̿ ̵̭͛h̷͍̾ȃ̷͉v̶̭͝e̶͎͆ ̴͚̈n̵̟̎ó̷͉ ̴̖͑ḧ̸͔́ǫ̷̎m̴̙͑ẽ̸͈ ̵̨̍ȟ̴͇ȅ̸̘ȑ̴̦e̸̫͠.̶̪͐

 

Leave my m̸̛̟i̵͘ͅn̵͖͘d̷͍̚.

 

LEAVE

 

Ļ̴̗̗́̾̋͊̕͜E̵̢̐̿̂Ả̵̧̛͠V̵͕̰͙̲͕̼͋͌͝ͅ

 

y̸̬̒́́o̶͚̝̥͑̒̈u̴̡̠̬̰̔̿̈ ̴̛͈̱̗a̷̬̒̇͂r̴͈̿ẻ̸̘̝̪͚ ̸̥̲̄̿̊ō̸̗̟̻͊n̷͓̪͝ḙ̷̦̠̝́̈́ ̷͕̋ọ̵͈̾̔̽͜͝f̶̥̟͉̅ ̷̲̈́̊̄͝u̴̯̕͘ͅs̴͍̻̯͂

 

s̸̗̒̉͠e̴̖͚̔̔͛͛ế̴͎k̷̻̳̮̾̑͂͝ ̴͕͕̥͔͒͒̽̉ả̵̤̿ṋ̶̯̓͌̚͝d̶̛͈̪̲̈́ ̴̠́d̸͔͙̠̜͌e̵̠̪͛š̴̪̬̖̄ͅt̵̫̎̏̓̅r̸̺͔̋͑ö̷͕̰͖́ý̷̧̤͍͆͝

 

a̵n̵d̸ ̶d̶e̸s̸t̴r̶o̶y̴

 

ḓ̷̨̧̧̢̯͉̰̦̺̫̥̠̤̜̱̤͕̤̳̥̭͖̥͈͉͓̗̤̞̞͈̮̞̮̞̰̤̓̓̿͆̄̈́̈̃̎͒͋̆̆̊̇͌̆͐̐̽̐̚͝͝͝e̷̡̨̧̪̬̥̯̜̺͚̫̹̩͇̮͉̤͓̭̹̼͈͉̙̘̻͙͕̻̜̘̘̤͛͑̈́̔͂̈̐̔̕͜ͅͅs̸̡̛̘̟̖̱̗̜̪̱̘̝̙̖͑̈̈̉̃̏͌̂̇̂̊̉͌̾̓̈́͗̇̃̊͋̐̈́̾̌̾̋̽͊͗̾́̀͐̈́̂͂̅̇̓͑͌̾̏̂̃̍͐͑͂̿͂̽͛͋͌̕̚͜ͅť̴̨̢̡̛̗͔̳̯̤̥̲͎̹̣͍͔͓̗̦̯̻͕͖̘̤̰̲̺͆̓̓͋̿̌͑͐̀̒̔͑̒͌̏̓̍̎̈́̄͂̽͊̊̇̊͊͐̎͋͛̊̃̊̌͋̅͊͆̽͆̑̾̉̊͋̑͘̚̚̚͜͠͠͠͠͝͝͝͝ȑ̵̡̨̛̺̘͚̹̞̼̮̭̮͇͍̘̖̪̥̱̟̘̥̰̝̜̠͔͖̮͕̼̹̣̲͚͚͖̻͍͓̝̦̩͈̲̩̖̠̽͋͛͘͜ô̵̡̢̤̙͕͉̘̖̰̤͍̮̜̩͖̜͇̤͖͉̝̪̳̦͓͎͇̘̇͐͒͊̆̀͊̎̚͘̕ͅẏ̴̡̨̧̛̛̬̼͎̠͓̘̥͖̖̲̫̗̥̫͓̲̥̱̳͔̝̪͚̫̝̝͉̲̣̻͕̪̗̼̼̥̥̫̤̱̳̥̭̮̮̲͉̰̱͈̳́͛͌̔̈͛̓̋̍̊͊̇͛̎̌̑̇͒͠͝͠

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

* * *

 

My body jolts awake with what feels like a surge of fire in my nervous system. My breath is hoarse and raw, like I'm catching breath from being drowned.

 

What....

 

What the hell was that?

 

I'm sitting.

 

The earth is cold beneath my feet.

 

When I take in my surroundings, I do not recognize the place that I am in. There are trees all around me, wind rustling through grass, and sunshine peeking through the branches.

 

Right in front of my face, a strange little bug of some variety is crawling down bark, body covered on all angles with an iridescent yellow.

 

I'm startled as it begins to take flight, flitting in front of my face and then up into the treetops.

 

Heart. My heart won't stop tiring itself out, it drones on as if danger is close nearby.

 

I try my best not to panic.

 

Where is Tino?

 

Where is Berwald?

 

Mathias?

 

Where are the others?

 

My eyes frantically look around, seeking, panicking. I only have my clothes and nothing else, no food, no tools, nothing.

 

Oh.

 

I am in danger, my heart races for a reason.

 

....

 

I'm so alone.

 

I can feel Mathias' shirt sticking to the sweat from my back.

 

I look down at my hands, covered in dirt.

 

Plip.

 

Red. What?

 

Plip.

 

Blood. Is it my blood?

 

It is. I wipe at my nose.

 

...it happened again. I remember. It's happened three times now.

 

Thrice, third.

 

I try to slow my breathing, conserve my energy.

 

What was the first time? What is it?

 

I feel light-headed, but not dangerously so. Need to be careful.

 

I don't understand. I just don't.

 

Of all the times, why does now have to be the time that I begin to fear my own body?

 

I feel as if at any moment it will betray me, as if I will suddenly just be gone without a moment's notice.

 

I can't even trust myself to stay near my own family... and friends.

 

That must be it. I must have sleep-walked, or run away in a fit of rage. I must have deserted them.

 

I must have left them behind.

 

It's this realization that I come to, as I lean up against a tree's trunk and curl up into myself.

 

I must hate them quite a lot.

 

I'm so scared. Why would I hate them? They rescued me. They haven't done harm.

 

I.... must be dangerous.

 

What if.... they abandoned me?

 

Maybe they dumped me here, in this strange remote place, to be rid of me for once and for all? Because they saw how dangerous I could be....

 

...

 

They abandoned me because they saw that I pushed so hard into Mathias' mind.

 

They recognized what I was doing. I'm a threat to them, I'm the outsider.

 

That's why I'm here.

 

...

 

In Mathias' mind, in that sole memory that we shared, I felt so much new fear that I didn't originally feel. It was a fear from him. He was afraid to leave me again.

 

But beyond that.

 

He was afraid to let me into his mind, even if he didn't understand what was happening.

 

I saw a darkness in him.

 

It wasn't a cancerous evil, but it was still there. A broodiness. An obsession.

 

That memory matters more to Mathias than I realized. It was a mistake on my part to reach out for it so soon.

 

I thought we could grow closer that way, like I learned how to do with the other Subjects at the lab.

 

But he resisted, and clung to the experience as if it were his one possession that gave him life.

 

His perception of me as... female.

 

...

 

Wind rustles through my hair, fresh breeze on a chilled day. Vaguely salty smell. I stare at a leaf absent-mindedly, silently.

 

Well if I have the ability to see in Mathias' mind, anyone's mind, then I might be able to do other things. What else have the scientists given me in their torture?

 

I wonder if it's any true.

 

The image that I allow to my mind is one of a dripping faucet. Watching each drop form, then fall, form, then fall...

 

I try to shape my mind into the shape of a drop. Compact it. Squeeze it. Round it. Like clay.

 

Mellifluous. I block out sound. To see if I can move the leaf.

 

My fists ball into my stomach, tight, wound like rope.

 

No, that's not it. I'm just making myself more tense.

 

Relax. Despite the danger. Use this to your advantage. Calm your heart rate.

 

Do the opposite of what the technicians told you to do. Don't make things more complicated than they need to be. Go with the flow.

 

Suddenly I feel weight leave my body. I no longer feel the dirt, gravity, a downward pull to the ground. But I'm not floating.

 

Ah, so that's the key.

 

I get in the same perspective as the leaf.

 

I imagine further that I'm light as a feather, freshly estranged from the rest of the tree, like my family, and suddenly it makes sense!

 

It makes sense!

 

I snatch the leaf out of the air, realizing that it had been lifted into the air on my say, on my control!

 

Despite this confusion of where I am, I suddenly feel a great amount of hope that I can at least be in control of some aspect of my life!

 

It's exhilarating! I haven't felt this emotion in....so long!

 

Uncontrollably, my eyes leak tears, the world becoming so blurry.

 

But...

 

This won't solve how fearful and lost I am. Even if I'm slowly gaining more control of myself, that alone won't solve this problem.

 

Before I understand fully what's happening, there's a pounding sensation that threatens to tear open my head, and I fall backwards into what feels like an endless chasm, everything around me going black, silent, fickle.....

 

* * *

 

 

_Luuuuuuuukas~~~~~~~~_

 

_come us back you to_

 

_crying you too for_

 

_in so pain we much are_

 

_love where of did go mine you?_

 

_love him lie wretched think I_

 

_of scared you to seem I be_

 

_Luuuuuuukas_

 

_L̴̛̯̮̤͎̩̹͎͑͐͗̃̅̋̈̑̈́̃̀͘̚ͅư̶̧͖̗̹̙͍͉̭̥͔͗͒̋̂͝k̸̛̯̝͑̈́̿͂̊̎̓͂̈́͘̕a̷̡͕̞̥̪͐́s̸̡̠̺̗̼̯͎̲̞̻̭̻̈́͊̑͛̇͗͝͠͝,̵͎̪͈͎̥̫̪̻̯̙̠͍̬͑̉̈́͂͋́̒͜͠͝ͅ ̸̢̳̱̰̳̻̳̲̼̲̺̰͎̳̿̓̇̔͐̔̓̈͝͝͠Ļ̷̠͕̻͉̜͔̞̟̖̫̀̋̇̈̿̔ữ̵̧̩̲̼̯̬̱̉̎͋̈̄̈́̎̈́̏̈́͗̑ͅķ̸̪̦̱͍̫̪̩̏́̽̋̃͆̐̂̅̉ͅå̷̰̮̣̈́͆̈̇͌̒̋͜s̷̨̰̞̫͎̺̼̠̹̰̺̞̖̮͊̍̊̓̾̾̅̂͗͊̐̋͆͋͜,̶̨̹̦̲̼̬̱̭̻͇̦̼̦̓̅̆̍̿̎̿́̉͘̚ ̴̨̢̞̙̳̙͈̹̪̳͒̐̈́̾̇̄͊̓̿L̸̛͓̦̗̣͎̭̭͍̲̱̩̮͆̉̌̈́̈̅͜͠u̸̡̡̩̹̟̤̜͍͓̘͓̥͒̀̏̎̃̑k̴̠͖̭̗̖͕̦̎̇̄̈́̅͐͐ȧ̶̛̹͎̫̹̳̼̤̜͔̰̩̺̱͌͒̈́̀̓̉͘͝s̶̮̳̟̉̍̾͊͋!̷̧̖̼͎̲̬̯̳̻̗̞̭͇̱͙̏̊͂̈͗͝!̷̛̛̯̰̩̠̗̈́̓̋͑̋̐̀͑̚͠_

 

 

_L̷̡̧̡̨̧̧̡̡̢̡̧̢̢̨̛̛̛̜̰̦̩̹̲̜̣̤̦̥͕̞̞̹̼͉͍͖̝͚͚̫̗͙̤͓̪̖̣̱̗̤͓̩͔͍͙̪̱͙̲͚̫̱͇̣̫̟͉͇̹͈̻̫̮͖̪̼̠̖̝̲̼͎̖͕͍͓̫̙̘̥͔̤̺̖̭̭̺̖̤̰̙̜̣̙̣̹̳̯̹̺̫̤̼̪͖̙̭̻͕̩̺̪͚̖̳̖̤̹̘̰̫͍͍̹͕̫̺̮͖͔̈́̍͆̈́̅̑̏̏̇̑͌̓͒̒̎̇̈́̃͛͆͗͊͋̋̊͑͛̆̿̆̆̔̄̂̓̓̈̏͗̃̋̿̋̅͊̈́̏̒̇͗͐̌̀̿͆́́̅̾̓͂́͌͆̍̂̍̿̈́͊͊̏̄̇̎͗̿͂̅̎͂̔̋̒̎̈́̈́́͌̓̈́͛̾̈́̅͂̈́̓̅͛̇̈́̒̿̎̑̇̎͊́̏͗͌̌̾̏̓̈́̎̇̈́̉̇̀͆͘̕̕̕̕͘̚̚͜͜͜͜͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅͅư̵̧̩̞͇̦̝̝̑͊̐̍̍̍̿̽͂̋͊͐͛͛̔̉̃͑͋̂̓͛͆̓͐͛̀̅̔̂̇̌̆̃͑̈́̂̊̄̊͒͐̽̒̿̃̄̒̔͒̾̈̽̅̾͘̕̚̕̚͝͝͝͝͝k̸̛̞͍̮͕͚̫̼̖̙̰̻̺̲͛͌͊͛̈́̋͗́̏̆͊͛̔͂̓̋͒͐̓̈́̃̽͊̍̈̑̾̒͆̌̇͛̂̈́͋̑̄̎̽̒̿̒͂̔̈́͌̽͊̾̕̚̚͘͝͝͝͠͝ą̸̡̨̨̡̛̰̥͔͈̯̭̭̭̘̩̮̪̭͖̠͉̳̹̩̘̼̠̠̝̯͔̦̣̺̭̥̤͍̬̳̪̮͍͚̜̟̘̻̩͚͙̱̍͒̈͂̍͊̓̋̈́̐̄̏́̅̽̈̏̒̐͑̌͊̑̎̐͂̏̒͂̌͑͗̏̆̀͐̃̌͊̽̑͌̋̽͑͋͗̒́̄́̏̾̋͛̇́͑͑͒̇̐́̈́̚͜͜͜͝ͅͅş̶̧̡̨̨̧̨̢̢̢̢̢̛̛̛̛̛̤̰͉͕̠̣͔͚͙̖̻͎̼͚̗͉̭̘̻͍̜͎͓̻͈̪̟͈͍̭͈͈͍̼̭̬̭̬̤̲̤͍̘͇͓̘̩͉̺̦̜̣̝̗̭̻̖̟̬̩͇̮̬̠̦̰̲̤̼̬̺̖̼͎̠̩̘̗̙̟̬̻͈̯͉̣͇̲͖̲̖̻̗̖̲̤̘͔͎̼͚̻͇̮̱͔͎͔͖̠͖̩̭̩̬͈͆̋̊͂̏̋͗͊̏̅̈̃́͊̈́̂̾̐͊́̂̈̑̓̍̈́͛̈́̋̍͋̃̋̓̎̈́̋̅̀̄͗̇́́̈́͒̈́̒͌͗͛̑̐͛͆́̊̾̒̿̌͐̃͌͐͑̓́̆̋͆͛͛̋͌̓̏̄͊͆̓́̇̒͆̉̽̇̾̇̔͊̋̈́́̓͛́̑̃̽̔̌̍̎́̋͊̏̅̈́͗̃̄̎̒̉̒̈́̅͛̆̂̇̄̾̿͑̏͒͛̓̋̑͊̄̂͆̇̔͛͐̂̐͂́̓̈́̂̆̓̾̈́̈́̇̇̎̏̊͑̿̅̒̾̄͊̏̈͘̚͘̚̚͘̕̚̚̚̚̚͘̚͘̕̚͘̕͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅͅ,̸̢̢̨̧̡̡̡̡̢̢̧̢̡̡̢̧̢̨̡̧̡̛̗͈̘̞͕̖͎̹̟̙̘̻͚̠͙̖̟͚̹̪̺͕͍͓͈̞̳͓̺̲͍͉͈̘͔̭̼͙̭̜͓͇̞͓͇͕͍͍̟͈̣̥͉͎͔̰͈̲̱̺̩͕̪̞͓̖̱̖̳͔̠̬͉͙̳̫̱̣͕͍̬̰̝̟̲͇̦̘̰̞̖̹͎̱̰͙̤͇̟͚̤͙͇̻̝̝̥̼̝͇̱̼̪͈̫̼̲̦̥͙̜̰̞̰̖̘̟̭͍̪̦͓͙̝͈̫̹͔̰̲̥͖͖͖̭̭͔͎͚͖͕̘̳̺̫̰͚̜̘̬̞̳̹͍̪͍̠͉̼̠̳̠͙̹̺̦͓͔̻̹̩̘͍̮̯̩̼̳̰̥̑́̂͑̆̂́̄̔̈́̓̈͑͆͂̌̈́̓͂͑̓̏̈́̈̐̿̒̆͊͒̈́̅͊̈́͌͂̐̾̌̀̓̒͛̆̈́͗̓͆͑̈̋̏́͑̓̀̅͒̒͛̀̔̍̀̀̄͐̊͂̐̎̋͑̉̿̈́̐͋͊̂̇̾͊̐̏̀̇͒̽̃͂͒̊͑̋̇̈́̓͌̓̀̅͑̽͌͒̐̌͐͗͌̋̍̀͛͋̓͊̌̚͘̚͘͘͜͜͝͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅ ̸̢̧̧̨̧̢̛̛̛̗̲̼͖̤̼͙̖̺̦̭̫̻̞͉͓̠͕̩̜̳̺̙͈̖͖̭̺̬̣̰̻̺͕͔̜̮͔͎̯̟̜̦̗͔͈̤̙̜̎̂͌̾͋̓̅̒̔̅̓͒̈̍͊̈́̃̽̓̓̈́͆̿̆͋͐́͑͆̽̄̍̏̔͐̇̈́̾̎̄̎̉̅̋̈́̐̒̅̾̂́̉͑̊̇̏̎̊͒̋͛̏͒̕͘̚̕͘͜͝͝͝͝͝ͅL̷̛̛̛͙̪͛̒̑̂͐̆͛̄̌̓̓̑̅͌̉̊͒͒̓͋̆̒̅̈́͒͐̽̍͐̌̂͑͗͊̓̃̈́̍͂̍̎̅̚̚̕͝͠ͅư̸̢̨̨̡̨̧̡̨̢̢̨̧̡̛̛̮͕̳̰̙͖͔̠̩̗͍͓̱͖͉̪͓̻̮̥͙͎̲̞̝͉̠̱̝̞̪̜̜̣̝̼̲̩̙̰̘̝̳̠̹̱̪̙̰̠͇̣̩̤͓̰͍͔͙͉̼͙̺͚̞̭̱͖̥͉͍͚̖͚̞͇͓̹̝̝͔̣̖̼̭̩̖̮͉̙͎̠̫͕̻̼̼̜̗͔̠̠͖͇̥̫̘̯̙̗̞͉͕̻͔͙͔͚̠̘̪͙͕̜̼̺͎̳̬͕̝̞̻͙̜̰̯̼͕͚̮̝̗̞͖̩̹͇̗͕̥̝͕͈̲̙̱̬̠͂͌̒̈͐͋̆̍̓͂͑̒̇̋͑̽̈́͌̅͂̂̔̈́͗̌͊̉̊̓́̉̂̄̊̅̿̊̍̎̓̈́̑̀̿́̈́͛͋̇̀̿̈́̈́͌̄̂͆̏́̿́̐̐̊͒͌̌͆̏̉͛͛͒͊̌͒̈́̊͛̃̌̋͋̾̐̋͑͌̆̋͆̎̄̒̚̚̚̕͘̕͘̕͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅk̸̡̧̡̧̧̧̡̧̢̢̧̢̢̥͇̦̮̪̰̦̮̜͔͖͕̱̣̘̮̭̘͖̯̘͖͔̺̹̜͔̩̣̥̠̲̟̞̼̪͕̯͉̪͈̬͚͇̦̞̼̖͉̞̻̱͎̻̯̘͕̜̙̯̗̗͚̗͕̪̬̠̯̺͍̻̥͍̪̲̠̼̘͈̗͉̙̳̝̲̙̘͍̯͇͖̘͖̝̜̬͔̙̗̹̭̺̳̬̰͕̬̝͎̠͕̣͖̝̼͎̪̦̻͖̹͈͙͇̹̰͚͎̰͍͚̍̓̈́̆͛̈͒͜͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅa̷̛̛̭̹̬̖͑̊́͑̿͛͑́͛̆̐̍̀̔̑̿̂̿̎̑̌̉̍̀̅̊̇̐͑̊̀͋̔̀̈́͆͗̊̎͂̈́͂͆̌͆̔̾̓̐͑͑̃̾̂͆̀̈́̉͋̆̎̊̽̏̈́͐͒̎̑̀͛̎̿̍̑̉̆̃͊̈́̂̔̽̿͆̓̓͌̌̋̽̆͗͋̋̐͆̊͂̍͒͐̊̆̔̆͂̉̇̑̑̑̂̑̒̐̾̀̆͑̾̐̔̾̽̿͂̅̆̾̆͑̈́͌̍̇̋̃̎͐̇̑͛͒̒̂̊̆͑͋̏̀̌͒̒̀̎̃̉̿͒̇̍̕̕͘̕̕̕̚̕̕͘̚͘̕̚̚̚͘͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝s̷̢̨̨̧̢̨̨̧̧̧̢̧̨̨̛̹̥͉̺͈̜͈͎̮̺̘͉̝̤̳̻̲̞̠̰̠̪̪̣̙̩̯͎̮̯͚̟͔̯̠̤͈̼̱̲͖̘̻͈̗͉͎̰̜̞̹̝̘̤̯͖̲̰̰̦̻̖̭̙̱̞̺̤͎̜̝̥͎̟͓̭̞̪̳̺̘̰̲̣̗̱̜͕̝̙̰̬̲̼̤̘̮̙̣͔̣̠͉̞̖̯͙͇̪̥̼͖͍̜̖͈̮̺̘͉̱̱̣̥̘̯̰͍̲̻̗̣͖̙͖̫͕͔̤̞̙̰̳̩̹̘̦̞̲̜͓̤̰͖͕̺̺̱̯̤͐̿͋̀̍̍̏̒͊̃̆͂̅̊͒̈́̓͂̒̅̑̃̀̍̄̽̏̒̽̈́͋̉̊̉̈̃̾̈́͑̉͐̌̋̐̀̂́͊̔̓͌͂̒̊̏͐̽̇̈́͑͐̋̈̈́̌̌̐̋̆̓̑̍̅̾̈́͐̍̓̐͑̓͆̄͊͗̃̏͊͊̑͑̓̏̇͑͒̈͆̊̽̍͛̽͂͐̓̐̆̀̈́̌̀̅̑̿͌͆͐̍̾̔̈́̅̎́̎͐͂̓͌͒́̊̋͑̈̓͛̓̎̑̆̒̋́̂̐̍̈͘̕̚̕̕̕̚͘̕̕͘͘͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͠͝͝͝͠͝͠ͅͅͅͅͅ,̶̨̨̡̧̢̡̨̢̧̡̨̡̧̛̛̛̛̤͈̻͖̯͙̼͕̱̱͔̲̺̩̞̖͇͍̼̮͉̹͉̫̘͇͈͔͉͕͇̪͙͖̼̩̤̘͓͇͎̩͚̭̳̩̫͍͚͈̻̤̯͍̼̙̗̞͇̼͇̰̻̬̲̩͓̹͖̫͍̭̲̗̮̬̟͈̮̭̞̮̖̙͎̺̳͕̳͕̯͈̘̩̗̮̙̣̯̟̜̙͕̠̞͔̥̬̼͚̩̭̳͎͕͙̲͕̻̰̹̳̗͙͒̒̐̏͗̃͐̒͛̈́͂̂̍̇͋͆̌̈́̅͛͛͆̑̅̎̔̋̓̀̈́̈̽̓̋̈́̒͐͂̊̄̔̐̌̅͊͋͊̍̈̿̽̎̇̏̉̆̂̒̿͛̎͂̂̄͐̉̈́̈̇̈́͆̀̾̏̅̽̋̍͗͋̌͂͆̔͊̄̽̈̃̉͌̓̈́̀̄͋͊̅̆̎̿̀͆̈́͊͋̀͊̋̃͋͗̚͘̕̕͜͠͝͠͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅ ̶̢̧̢̢̡̢̧̧̧̨̛̛̛̛͚̰̼̘̮̜̱̗͙͙̼̤̟̣̺̗̙͎͎̯̪̮̳̥͖͉̲̞̗̰͕̬͕̖̳̙̣͍̦͍̖̫͎̤͕̮͈̹̖͈͇͇̖̤͉͍͈̳̟͍̮͙͙̖̹̤̼̱̙̥̤̫͈͉̓̄̈́̉̋̽̈́̌͛͐̂̎͐͆̓̅̅̏̍͐̓̄̆͂͋͐̃͒̾̀̇̍̈̄͌͌͌͆̾͋̾̔͋̔̽͊̎̒̈͂̈̑͐̓̿̂͊̈́̈̊̑̾̎̓͂̒͋͆̋̍̊̑͂͛̃͊͗̂͐͋̏̽͒́̾͌̑͐̂̌̎̋̋͋̆̊͒̈̄̈́͂̎͆̋̍͒̅͛̉͛̎̆̈́͐̔̒̂̌̽̌̇͐̑̅̎̓̈́̈̀͊̄̊̆̾͋̐̐̉̈͆̑̿̈͐̽̓̎̑̈́̅͒͂͂̔̈́̏̋̄̓́̄̆̎̓̌́̈́̄̓͑͘̕̕̕̕̕̚̕͘̕̚͜͜͝͝͝͝͠͠͠͝͠͝͝͠͠͠ͅͅͅL̶̨̨̧̨̨̨̡̨̧̢̡̨̛̛̳̠̖͓̲͈̰̟̗̳̠̲͈͕̗̤͓̹̖̘̱̥̰͕̹͓͇̣̤̲̱̰̠̠̼̯̦̺̥͔͙̩̲̞̞̦̥̜̱̼̗͇̹̮͍̹̠͙̩̗̭̪̟̤̹͍͚̹̰̜̭̱͙̼͈͎̗̖͖͙̙̘͔̥͓͍͙̗͖̱̜̱͖͈̭̞̝̞̭̗̣̞̳̝̰͍̹̬̜͙̻̻̤͈͉̣̞̖͈͔̖͓͓̫̠̞̫̩͈͍̞̝͕͚͈̱̯͍̈̉̍̒̌̓̇͑̽̊́́͛̓̿̓͋̿̊̽̽̈́̓̅̃̄̍̿̊̈́̿̉̑̄̎̓̅̐̽̓͒̍̿̍͆͋̃̃́̍̅͐͑̆͋̓́̍͐̕̕͘͜͜͜͝͝͝ų̷̢̧̡̡̢̨̧̧̧̢͔̳̳͕̖̦͚̱̗͓̬͍̗̦̳̗͔͖̙͎̘̲̩̫̭̟̤̥͇͚̳͉̥̤͙̮̹͓̘̬̗͖̖̣̳̣͎̤̘̝̻̲̗̩̖̝̻̳̞̗̥̝̤͔̥̦̤̥̫̙̞͉̮̞͉͎͖͍͕̣̘̣͇͉̼̜̣̯̰̩̝̪̳̪͇̱͎͚̗̣͈̪̳̱̦͔̝̘̬̱̙͖͙̥͚͖̝̠̬̳̫̫̇͐́͒̍͂͌̿͒̆̍̈́͗̈́͂̐̉͋́͗͒͒̿̓̽͋̌͌̒͗̓̽̓͛͛̌̇͋̂͆̊̀̾̽̂͑͗̾̍͂̽͋̓̈́̓͛͆̌̃̑͋̅́̓̒̋͋̈́̓̏́̉̎̂̓̒̒̉̔̄̿̃͒͛͑̓͘̕̚̕̕͘͘͜͝͠͠͝͝͝͠͝ͅͅͅͅk̷̨̧̨̢̡̢̧̡̧̢̢̛͚͍̜͇̭͔̼̰̥̻̲̻̝̻͍̼̘̥͚͎͚̘͓̻̬̜̲̥̱͍̙̠̖̲͉̱͔̞͓̤̭͍̺̩̥͎̺̦̹͇̮̼͈͉̮̬̙̮̲̝̹̱͕̲̜̥̯̖͍̳̹̤̣̲̤͚̬̞͍̠̣͔̯̙̯̱̳̠̩̻̫̗̥͕̤̼̺̙̳̫̖̲̳̩͓̖͈̫̥̳̺̼̠̳̞̼̤͚̳̘̼̖͓̠͈̫̲̲̗̗̟̳͆͑̐̂̓̀̄̒͋͐̽͒̓̓͑͛̂̈́̈́͊͂͌̐͂̈́̓̔͑̋̄̐̾̏́̃͐͒̐̒͗̑̀̿̌̃̓̑͒̄̐̍̀̿̂͋̓̂̒̌̋̓͆͌͊̑̿̈́͐̿͐̀͒̽̄̕̚̕͘̕͜͜͜͝͠͝͠͝͝͝͝͝͝͠ͅͅą̷̢̢̡̨̧̧̡̧̧̧̧̡̨̧̛̛̛̛̛̭̩͇̝̥̭̯̮̮̬͉̲͈̳̗͓͓̲̙̖̫̣̻͙̯̻͇͍̜͔͓̗͉͎̘͓̠͇̭̲͓͉͍̳̖̪̜͓̻͕̞͍͉̞̘̤̖̩͕̺̳͚͚̦̩̙̞̯͖͙͕͚̭̮͕̙͕̼̹̲̘̝̙̹͕͇̹͔͉͉͎̩͎͍̟̼̼͇̳̺͔̖͎͉̗̫̟̝͚̭̗̲̼̭̺̖̹͚͈̦̫͈̝̰͉̼̣̩̺̬̬̖̤͎̠̮͓̝̱̳̥͖̼̣̬̱͈̜̤͍͓͕̼͍̺͈͎̩̳̬̩̠̣̎̂̐̐͒̑̐͋͒͒͑͗͛̆̂͂̌̑̿̓̑̒̿̈́̔̊͑͛͊̽͗͊̂̆̆̌͌͐͊̀͊̊̎̍͗̍͌̈̿͑͆̾̑̓̎̑̈̆̀̆̓̈̔́͒̏̃̈́̅̈̓̽̀̈́͐̇̃̌̀̓̈́͛͗̋̒͑̈́͌͊͑̿̂͑̋͐̂͐̅̂̈̾̂͑̓̇̐̈́͐̏͐͗͒͊̅͌̊̑͆̐̀̀̃͒̈́̿̄̈́̉̒̅͐̀̋̑̒͋̓̾̋̀̾̃̍͑͆̽̄̎̔̐̀̆̔͘̕̚̕̚͘͘̚͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͝͝͝͠͝͝͠͝͝͠͠͠͝͝ͅͅͅͅͅͅͅͅş̸̡̢̧̡̛̛̛̫͔̝͚̦̥͔̳̹̯͉͙̼̜̥͈̫͉͎͎̪͙̲̜̫͙͙̯̥̳̘̭̩̳̝͓̗̪̰̹͍̪̩̫̭̭̳͔̠͓̲̟̣͕̘͇̜͖̫͍̳͑̒͆̑͑́̈́̊̏̀̄̊̃̾̈́̋̃̆̅͗̈̒̇̇̀̂̎͒̒̉̂̈͋̑̍̍̇̀́̊͋̐̋̌͛́͛̀̔̉̍͊̿̅̊̈͆̊̊̎͛͗̓̉̋̅̉̊̀̀̆͛̓̒͑͌̾͒̿̀̊̅̐̆̈̈͗͑̉̊͊̿̊̒̃̑̇̉͋̓͂̌̾̒̆̕͘̕̚̚̚͘͘͘̕͝͝͝͠͝͝͝͝͠͝͝͝ͅ!̵̨̢̨̡̢̢̡̨̧̨̡̡̨̧̛̛̛͇̰̱̭̤̭͕̮̮̞̭̟̤͚̱͈͔͇̞͕̜̭̙̝̳̩̮̝̤̼̣͈͍̞̩̜͚̰̥͎͖̫̪̮̘̖̤͙̞̤̼̗̻̗͙̦̘̺̼͓̭͚͈͇͙͇͖̩̤͎̠͕͕̩̯͍͕̳̱̥̺̞̼̜͖͓̺̣̞̤̹̬͖̰̺̞̜͙̞̝̠̼͍͈̮͇̮̣̳̻̩̯̆̀̎̿̃̅̐͋̌͋̓͊͋̅̑̽̀̂̑͐͌̓̑̉͑͗́̏̍͒̊͊̾̏͆͐̅̈́͒́̈́̍̉̾̍͛́͊̚͘̕͘̚͜͜͜͝͝͝͝ͅͅͅͅ!̷̨̢̢̧̨̧̢̢̡̨̡̡̧̡̛͓̺̱̺͈̣͉͖̪̠͕̩͈͙̤͖̤̻̩̟̠̺̠̩͔̩͉͎̪̳̫̫̙͙̰̬̘̘̪̗͉̩̙͉̻̩̗̘̻̣͓̹̖̬̣̙̤̮͙͖͕̝̹̻̞̩̙͓̣̮̬̩͕͕͉͔̝͚̬̪͚̟̭̬̖̭̰͖̞͓̪̞̘̘̮̤̮̼̰̮͔̠͎̬̙̹̪̥̱̜̲̮̠̭͍̮̖̰͍͉͇̣͎͙͍̞̝͙̻̲͙͓̹̩̬̣̰̖̱̘̹̪̻͔̖̖͇̗͍̞͒͐͂̒͆̓̔́̑͌͗̔́͗̎̐̾̅͂̉̈̊͆̾̈̑͛̍̽͛̽̓̆̐͌̈́̊̑̍̽̑͌̽̈́̂̿̐́̆̏̆͐̾̂͛̀̓̓̇̎̿̾̽͆̆͗̉̓̂̓̋̓̊̊̓̆̊̈̋̓̈́̓̋̔̍͌̈̽̆̒̎̉̍̐̎̿͌̈́̌̿̐̇̈͒̐́̈́̃͒̓̅̊͛̌̽͘̚͘̚̕͜͜͜͜͜͜͜͠͠͝͝͝͝ͅ_

 

_you miss we much do_

 

_hold to to love_

 

_of us one us of one_

 

_child confused psychic of_

 

_loves man of a cause different_

 

_help us you see_

 

_m̸a̵k̶e̵ ̸t̸h̵e̸ ̵w̶o̴r̵l̷d̷ ̵a̶ ̷b̴e̸t̴t̸e̷r̷ ̸p̶l̶a̷c̸e̸_

 

_convert it to us_

 

_please_

 

_p̷̯͎͎̆̐͛̈́͜ͅ ̵̢̞̣͕̯̂̍̂͌̎̈́ͅl̴̢̠̪̳͖͜͠ ̶̧̰͇̪͕́̒̚̕e̶͈̘̗̊͌͋̾̂ ̵̙̤̥̈́̑͌̓a̷̬͊̌ ̶͚̙͈̈̉̎̃̇s̵̖͗̈͠͝ ̷̧̟͔̜̓͂̌̿̅è̴̺͔̈́͛_

 

* * *

 

"Hey, wake up!"

 

"Lukas??? Lukas...."

 

"Lu, wake up, please....."

 

.....

 

"Lukas. Are....are ya there???"

 

XXX


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